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ELLA M. POWELL. 



Women Who Laugh 



THE TRANSATLANTIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 

NEW YORK 

63 FIFTH AVENUE 

LONDON 

26 HENRIETTA ST., COVENT GARDEN 




Copyright, 1895, 

BY 


TRANSATLANTIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


CHAPTER I. 

The steamer cabin was rapidly filling 
with passengers. To avoid the incon- 
venience of an early morning start they 
had come aboard the night before. 
Some were seated quietly in the sombre 
corners, pensive over the coming sepa- 
ration from loved ones. Others, in 
groups here and there, chatted gayly of 
anticipated pleasures. 

At one of the tables “ The Dane'’ 
sat steadily writing, undisturbed by the 
coming and going. Not until a bevy 
of school-girls entered, noisy in their 
light-heartedness, did he find himself 


lO 


WOMEJV WHO LAUGH. 


vanquished. A faint smile lingered 
about his face as he quietly gathered 
up his writing-materials and strolled 
away. At the end of the room he 
raised his eyes, for the first time, and 
gave a passing glance at Evlyn Dole, 
who sat almost hidden behind the 
great baskets and bouquets of flowers 
before her. She was a young woman 
of twenty-five summers. Her beauty 
was not of the exterior, but of the mind 
and heart. To hear her speak, to see 
her face light with its varied and won- 
derful expression, was at once to feel 
her magnetism. In the casual crowd 
she would pass unnoticed — to know her 
was to love her. She just escaped being 
a belle. She was more — a woman with 
a purpose. Her only travelling com- 
panion was a matronly lady. The two 
were bound for Paris — Evlyn to study 
music, Mrs. Grey, her chaperon, as 


WOMEJV WHO LAUGH, 


II 


foreign correspondent for a New York 
daily. 

When they were fairly on their 
journey, Evlyn found her deck-neigh- 
bors to be Mrs. Grey on one side and 
The General ” on the other. She 
knew he was “ The General ” by hearing 
him so saluted. She thought his mili- 
tary bearing merited the appellation if 
his distinction did not ; but she was 
sure he had the latter, for every one 
was so deferential. He attracted at- 
tention and excited comment as he 
walked the deck. His face was classic, 
his hair iron-gray. He was termed 
handsome, distingud^ well-preserved ” 
— Evlyn added to herself, “ fastidious,'' 
when he drew out his handkerchief and 
she detected perfume. The arm of her 
steamer-chair touched his. She felt 
herself in very distinguished company, 
and respectfully leaned towards Mrs. 


12 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


Grey to give his great fur steamer-rug 
plenty of space. Occasionally she felt 
him looking at her. Then she would 
take her eyes from the monotonous 
waves and lower them to her book. 
He took notice of every movement, 
and endeavored to catch her every 
word to Mrs. Grey. 

I wonder what island that is off 
there,'’ remarked Evlyn. Mrs. Grey 
did not know. 

beg pardon, that is still the 
coast-line," interposed The General," 
suavely. 

Evlyn received his information with 
thanks and a modest smile. It washer 
habit to smile, and she talked always 
up, never down. This rising inflection, 
coupled with her sweetness of voice, 
gave a peculiar charm to her conversa- 
tion. The General " was delighted at 
the opportunity of speaking to her. 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


13 


He was quite aware that ship-board 
etiquette would permit him to do so, 
but he would have it done comme il 
faut. He was known as a ‘‘polished 
gentleman/' Further developments 
proved him to be not only a general, 

, but one of Wall Street's greatest finan- 
ciers. His name was prominent in 
great enterprises. Among his fellows 
he was a leader. On Sundays he 
passed the plate in one of the most 
fashionable churches of the city. 
There, on touching occasions, he was 
seen to close his eyes, smooth his hand 
over his face, meditatively, seeming to 
be lifted up by the organ notes. When 
he opened his eyes again they w'^re 
filled with tears. 

“ The General " had made up his 
mind to know Evlyn, who and what 
she was. He was a great ladies^ man. 
Also, being clever, he was accustomed 


14 


WOMEN’ WHO LAUGH 


to having things much his own way, 
and hence soon found himself chatting 
agreeably, first with Mrs. Grey, then 
with Evlyn. 

And so you are going to Paris to 
study music ? Ah ! my young friend, 
beware! '' said The General '' in a ten- 
der, fatherly tone. There isn't one 
American girl out of a hundred who 
goes to the old country to study who 
comes back the same." 

I don’t understand you," Evlyn re- 
plied innocently. He glanced at her 
quickly, scrutinizingly. 

Where do you live ? " he went on 
abruptly. 

Jn L , only a small town." 

Her nature had not been contami- 
nated by association with so-called high 
society of city life. The simplicity of 
her surroundings and the fragrance of 
the honeysuckle that clambered over her 


WOMEN’ WHO LA UGH 1 5 

piazza had left their impress on her 
child-like nature. In years only was 
she a woman. Only by the plaintive 
expression of her large brown eyes 
would one imagine she had suffered. 
She never complained, and her smile 
was a blessing wherever she went. 
Many, who in reality suffered much less 
than she, sought her for solace in their 
woes. 

I mean they are never the same,'' 
repeated “ The General." They go 
there innocent, away from home in- 
fluences; they come back wise and 
beyond control." 

Evlyn’s face wore a puzzled expres- 
sion. Just then the sea-breeze blew a 
stray lock of hair athwart her fore- 
head. 

I see you do not yet understand," 
he said, lowering his voice to a mellow 
tone, at the same time taking the stray 


WOMBJSr WHO LAUGH 


i6 

lock and confining it to its place. At 
this act Evlyn was confused. The 
color rushed to her cheeks; just why 
she couldn’t tell. He was an elderly 
man, giving her fatherly advice ; he 
must have daughters of his own ; he 
did not mean to be familiar, only ab- 
sent-mindedly kind. She turned her 
eyes suddenly to his with an inquisi- 
tive, penetrating look. He returned it 
with an expression strange to her. 
She never forgot it. There was a mo- 
ment’s silence. Evlyn looked out to 
sea. “ The General,” with a faint 
smile, began again : 

“ Most American girls do and say 
many things abroad that they would 
not dare do at home ; consequently 
they gain for themselves an unenvi- 
able reputation. They would become 
broad-minded, but instead they acquire 
loose manners. Their curiosity gives 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH, 


17 

them a desire for forbidden fruit, and 
the taste left in their mouth is hard to 
get rid of. When you have lived in 
Paris a while you will understand.’* 

But why,” inquired Evlyn, do you 
mention specially the girls who go to 
study ? ” 

Because study is generally the ob- 
ject of the American girl abroad. The 
girls are often in a measure unprotected 
— left to do as they will. Not being ac- 
customed to the world, they are easily 
misled, and many a ruined life is the 
result. Especially in your line is it 
dangerous. The artistic people live 
generally in the bohemian world. This 
sphere ignores many conventionalities 
of society’s code. One’s environments 
are very apt to leave their effects on 
the disposition. Musical people are 
known to have more intense natures 

than ordinary beings, therefore they 
2 


1 8 WOMEN WHO LAUGH 

are more impetuous and more apt to 
get into trouble. I repeat to you, be- 
ware and watch.’' 

Somehow his words made Evlyn un- 
comfortable. She wished he would 
change the subject — she comprehended 
vaguely. 

Poor Mrs. Grey is so sea-sick,” she 
said, as if suddenly reminded. I must 
go down and see her.” 

As Evlyn made an effort in this 
direction, the ship rolled to the side 
and she was precipitated to its edge. 

The General ” was quick to the res- 
cue. At the landing of the stairs she 
quietly drew away from him. His 
manner made her more uncomfortable 
than his words. 

Thank you, I can walk alone now,” 
she said pleasantly, and turned towards 
her state-room. 

“ The General ” watched her until she 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH, 


19 

had disappeared. I have made a mis- 
take,” he said to himself. 

On board The Dane ” was nick- 
named The Great Unknown.” He 
was also called The Dane,” because he 
was registered from Denmark, and his 
real name was hard to pronounce. He 
was seen always alone, with his pipe 
for a companion. He never associated 
with the men in the smoking-room, took 
friendly drinks with them, or bought 
pools on the steamer’s mileage. For 
hours he would sit at the bows, puff- 
ing his pipe and looking across the sea. 
He took notice of no one, seemingly 
as oblivious to the several hundred pas- 
sengers as if he were the sole occupant 
of the vessel. 

At meals he sat at the table with 
Evlyn ; but, as she was generally served 
on deck, she seldom saw him. On oc- 
casions when she had been there he 


20 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


would incline his head respectfully on 
taking his seat, eat steadily, and quietly 
leave before the others had fairly begun. 
Several times he was seen to smile, 
without raising his eyes from his plate, 
at some original remark of Evlyn’s. 

One night she had occasion to go on 
deck, after every one was supposed to 
have retired, to search for some valu- 
able she had left there. She suddenly 
ran upon two men in close conversa- 
tion. It was dark, but the moon gave 
sufficient light for her to recognize 
them as ‘‘The General’' and “The 
Dane.” “ The General ” was in a meas- 
ure confused at her unexpected appear- 
ance, while “ The Dane ” retained his 
usual indifferent demeanor, and turned 
and sauntered away. 

The next day, as Evlyn and “ The 
General ” were chatting, “ The Dane ” 
passed by. 


WOMEN- WHO LAUGH 


21 


Who is that curious man ? ” asked 
Evlyn. 

“ I really don’t know ; some crank I 

suppose. Speaking of literature ” 

But you were talking with him last 
evening as if you were old acquaint- 
ances,” Evlyn interrupted. Men are 
such queer creatures. They meet like 
the birds in the trees and talk without 
ceremony. It is nothing unusual for a 
man to stop another, a stranger, and 
ask for a light. If he is a sharper, he 
may look like a gentleman ; he not only 
gets a light, but an extra cigar and 
oftentimes a drink. I enjoy studying 
human nature, but as yet I am a nov- 
ice in the line.” 

I see you observe closely. You 
will find some startling developments 
as you go along which will make you 
none the happier ! ” 

You are rather severe on mankind.” 


22 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


‘‘ Because in the abstract I know 
them/* 

Evlyn wondered if he had had any 
great disappointment in life. Several 
times he had shown a tendency to 
cynicism. She had been totally unable 
to find out anything about his private 
relationships. In regard to them he 
kept his own counsel, and his friends 
guessing. 

How strange you have never mar- 
ried ! ” Evlyn ventured suddenly. 

Life is full of enigmas,** was his 
evasive reply, and he again returned to 
literature.** They had most interest- 
ing conversations on the latter sub- 
ject. '^The General** was a learned 
man and a good talker. He had done 
much towards varying the monotony 
of the trip for Evlyn. Since he had 
discovered how very sensitive and pru- 
dent she was, he had been most careful 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


23 

both of his speech and manner. Now 
that he was going to land in England,, 
and she was bound for France, Evlyn 
regretted the separation. His courte- 
ousness had done much to obliterate 
her first uncomfortable impression of 
him. He was extremely fascinating, 
and she felt somewhat flattered at the 
attention of such a man. 

They had reached the English port. 
The ladies straightened themselves out 
of their laziness and curled their bangs, 
presenting an agreeable metamorpho- 
sis, while the gentlemen were scarcely 
recognizable after putting away their 
n^glig6s and steamer-caps for fresh 
linen and silk hats. It was sunset. A 
peculiar haze hung like a veil over the 
face of nature, softening her features. 
A flood of light from the great red sun 
lit the green shores and myriad ship- 
masts with an illusive glow. They 


24 WOMEN WHO LAUGH 

looked like phantom ships anchored in 
the harbor of Heavenly Rest. 

Good-bye/' said The General ” 
with a tone of regret, while holding 
Evlyn's hand in a firm grasp. ^‘You 
are a pure, good woman — jewels rare 
in this time. Be true to your mother’s 
religion, and watch ! We will meet 
again.” 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


25 


CHAPTER 11. 

Life had begun in earnest for Evlyn 
in Paris. She had come all the way 
from America to study music and 
French. She had read the advertise- 
ment — French pension, five francs a 
day ; only French spoken.'' She ac- 
cepted the place, to find the five francs 
almost doubled by the pourboires, 
the house filled with Americans, and 
heard but little French spoken, save 
by the servants. She, Mrs. Grey, and 
the Frenchwoman who kept the pen- 
sion were about the only busy mem- 
bers of the household. There were a 
lot of restless, unhappy Americans, 
abroad just for the name and pleasure 
of being there, or else to escape some 


26 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


family unpleasantness. Out of the 
household of twenty-five persons, five 
were wives whose husbands were at 
home, working hard to earn money for 
them and their extravagant daughters 
to spend in Paris, paving the way to 
conjugal alienation. They were people 
with little artistic taste, hence they 
occupied themselves with watching the 
dry-goods bargain columns of the Bon 
March6 and the Louvre, doing a little 
superficial sight-seeing, visiting, and 
gossiping among themselves. 

Evlyn was a general favorite. She 
had no part in their petty jealousies 
and boarding-house quarrels, and had 
a wonderful way of getting along with 
people. She did it by being kind 
and pleasant to all, but familiar with 
none, and by keeping in mind the com- 
mand, Be ye therefore wise as ser- 
pents, and harmless as doves.'' If 


WOMEIsr WHO LAUGH. 27 

there was any real fun to be had, Evlyn 
was the leader ; if there were any fall- 
ings-out to be adjusted, she was the 
peacemaker. Often the questions were 
put to her, Did you ever lose your 
temper — ‘^Were you ever blue?’' 

There had not been one being dur- 
ing her whole life to whom she had 
confided her sorrows, and she began to 
suffer when only a child. Before she 
could fully comprehend and reason 
there was often a heavy feeling in her 
heart. Childish pleasures did not bring 
the joys to her as to other children who 
had happier homes. 

Now each morning the question con- 
fronted her, With whom shall I 
study, which is best?” Each master 
had his partisans and his enemies. It 
was hard to decide. Like many Amer- 
ican girls she had gone with the idea 
of studying with The Great Madame,” 


28 WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 

as she was generally called, a woman 
of title, wealth, and a disagreeable dis- 
position. Evlyn had been warned 
against her. It was said she was heart- 
lessly mercenary, charging thirty francs 
for a half-hour lesson, often giving the 
pupil ten minutes of that time, but 
demanding full payment. She had 
ruined more voices than she had made. 
Evlyn decided, however, to see for her- 
self. An interview, she argued, could 
do no harm. Accordingly she took 
a letter of introduction, given her by 
an old and famous pupil of The Great 
Madame’s,” and with Mrs. Grey went to 
call upon the celebrated teacher. 

A brass-buttoned boy in red waist- 
coat answered the bell : Have you 

written for an audience with madame ? 
he said with a lordly air, in answer to 
her inquiry whether Madame’' was at 
home, 


PVOMEAT WHO LAUGH 


29 

“ This letter will explain,” replied 
Evlyn, at which his menial majesty 
waived them in with a sullen air. 

One half hour passed before The 
Great Madame ” entered. Stopping in 
the doorway she said, in a grating 
voice, Have you written for an audi- 
ence with me ? ” 

We did not know it to be your 
custom, madame.” Evlyn rose as she 
spoke. 

The madame left Evlyn standing and 
took a seat on the opposite side of the 
room. 

‘‘ What is your business ? ” she ques- 
tioned after a moment's deliberation. 

‘‘ To have my voice cultivated,” 
Evlyn said, embarrassed, and seating 
herself beside Mrs. Grey without invi- 
tation. Then followed a catechism 
between the two. 


‘‘ Where are you frorn ? ” 


30 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


‘‘ America/' 

Do you intend to go on the stage ? " 
That depends." 

‘‘ When you have come so far, 
you should know what you are here 
for. How long do you intend to re- 
main? " 

‘‘ That depends again, madame." 

“ And again I repeat you should 
have decision of purpose." 

“ I do not know if my talent will 
warrant, or my means permit me to re- 
main. I came to you to find out. My 
mother is a widow and I have many 
responsibilities." 

‘‘ Ah ! I understand, but my class is 
full ; I can only give you a place in that 
of my assistant. Economy and re- 
sponsibilities are not conducive to the 
making of a great singer. I require 
my pupils to dress well, look well, be 
well, and be absolutely without care. 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


31 


The mind and body affect the voice. 
The voice and personal appearance af- 
fect the public. If you have no means, 
there are rich men in Paris who will 
assist you. In the meantime you can 
consider the matter.'’ 

Mrs. Grey had risen to her feet be- 
fore the madame had finished her sen- 
tence. Taking Evlyn by the arm, she 
started towards the door, just as the 
madame passed out without an adieu. 
She motioned to the boy in the red 
waistcoat as much as to say, Show 
those creatures out ! ” 

“And this is the woman,” said Mrs. 
Grey, when they were once more in the 
street, “ to whose care so many Amer- 
ican mothers send their innocent 
daughters ! I could not believe all I 
heard of her. I supposed the slurs to 
be in a measure the result of prejudice. 
I no longer doubt the rumor that her 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH, 


32 

best friend is the mistress of France’s 
greatest musical composer.” 

Thus at her very first step Evlyn 
began to realize the meaning of The 
General’s ” words of warning. She was 
not discouraged, but dazed, from her 
interview with The Great Madame.” 
She had insulted her majesty by not 
paying her the deference of writing for 
an audience.” Then, too, it happened 
to be one of her moody days. 

Evlyn had been warned against for- 
eign men, in that they had the reputa- 
tion of having less respect for woman- 
kind than Americans. She had rather 
expected the disagreeable from them, 
instead of from her own sex. 

I will go to Monsieur le Maestro,” 
she decided, be he what he may he 
cannot be more disagreeable than ‘ The 
Great Madame.’ ” 

After her unpleasant experience it 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


33 

was with trepidation that she went to 
call upon the Maestro, but his first 
smile, his grasp of the hand, placed her 
at ease. He was kindly, and his words 
sympathetic. He gave her confidence, 
and she felt sure of success. 

Though Evlyn could endure much 
without outward expression of distress, 
yet her sensitive nature suffered, in 
reality, none the less. She had long 
since believed with the Theosophists 
that ‘‘thoughts are things,'" and felt 
their effect, for good or evil, as strongly 
as a kindly cup of water offered when 
thirsty, or a blow in the face from an 
enemy. From the beginning she and 
Monsieur le Maestro were friends. In 
appearance and elegance of manner, he 
was much like “ The General," and in 
age some years his junior. 

To know Monsieur le Maestro was 
to know his dead wife. Her death ten 
3 


34 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


years before had been his only grief 
in life. Unlike most men, he had 
cherished her memory and brooded 
over his loss until his melancholy had 
become morbid and chronic. He took 
no interest in the world or its ways, 
and found but few people compensat- 
ing. He taught to divert, in a meas- 
ure, his mind, and fill weary days until 
he should gladly go and lie down in a 
wakeless sleep by the side of his femme 
in the quiet vault. 

With his pupils he endeavored to be 
cheerful, but there was always an un- 
dercurrent of sadness. There was a 
time when he had been not only the 
man of Paris,” but the tenor of the 
age.” Thousands crowded to hear him, 
while he received his own price. All 
this had now materialized into medals, 
diplomas, crowns of gold, laurel, and 
badges of the Legion of Honor, con- 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


35 

stant reminders around his studio of 
his fame and glory. He was modest 
and seldom spoke of himself or of his 
success. His pride was in his pupils. 
He felt sure there was a great future 
for Evlyn, if only she could keep her 
health. She had never been robust. 
When her ambition would inspire her 
to leap, her physical weakness com- 
pelled her to crawl. 

There came into her life at the 
French pension a young woman about 
thirty, who bore the name of Mademoi- 
selle Plan^on. She occupied the room 
next to Evlyn, with a connecting door, 
and therefore Evlyn knew much of 
her comings and goings. She was a 
shapely blonde of the fairest type, vul- 
garly termed a beauty.’’ Her eyes 
had a morose, rebellious expression, 
and her lips closed firmly as if refusing 
to speak. It was the expression alone 


36 WOMEAT ivi/O LAUGH, 

which marred the picture ; her figure 
was perfect. 

To the curious women of the house 
she was a conundrum, and afforded 
much material for gossip. They ques- 
tioned the madame of the pension 
about her. The former said she knew 
nothing except that she was peaceable 
and paid her board regularly and with- 
out complaint — the only requisites she 
made of her boarders. 

No one ever called on Mademoiselle 
Plangon. She seemed to be alone in 
the world, and without friends. On 
entering the dining-room she would 
bow alone to the madame of the house. 
At first several of her neighbors at 
table ventured a pleasant remark to 
her, but she only replied in monosylla- 
bles, showing no disposition to enter 
into a conversation, or even the ex- 
change of casual remarks. She never 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


37 

arose until noon, and seldom went out 
until dark. It was the rarest occur- 
rence that she remained at home dur- 
ing the evening. The concierge said 
she went alone, and returned alone. 

Several times when Evlyn had been 
up late, after the lights were out, and 
had heard Mademoiselle Plangon com- 
ing in, she opened her door to let the 
light from her lamp brighten the dark 
passageway. Mademoiselle Plangon 
felt the kindness. She saw, after a 
time, that it was only kindness, for 
Evlyn intruded no remark ; she had no 
prying curiosity. She saw two things, 
that Mademoiselle Plangon was an un- 
happy woman, and that she wished to 
be unknown. Without sharing the 
unkind surmises and criticisms of the 
pension boarders Evlyn often wondered 
who and what this lone woman was. 
She was more charitable than the others. 


38 WOMEN WHO LAUGH, 

and gave her the benefit of the doubt. 
She looked so miserable that Evlyn 
could not help having sympathy for 
her. 

One cold night Mademoiselle Plan- 
^on came in late, to find both her fuel 
and fire out. It was one of the nights 
on which Evlyn had left the door 
open to light the passage for her. 
There were no servants to be had 
at that hour. Mademoiselle Plangon 
hesitated a moment and then rapped 
timidly on Evlyn’s door, asking if she 
would be good enough to lend her 
some fuel until the morning. From 
that moment her manner was softened 
towards Evlyn, but to the others she 
maintained a rigid exterior. From 
time to time they had little chats 
through the thin partitions of the door 
between their rooms, and once when 
Evlyn had flowers sent her, she shared 


WOMEJSr WHO LAUGH. 39 

them with Mademoiselle Plangon. 
Whenever the latter would look at or 
talk to Evlyn, the severe expression of 
her face would soften, and then she was 
indeed beautiful. In moments of for- 
getful naturalness, Evlyn found Made- 
moiselle Plangon to be a woman of un- 
usual intellect and accomplishments, 
combined with a fascinating manner. 
Then interest was added to her sym- 
pathy. Sometimes in the dead calm of 
the night she had heard her sobbing 
and felt inclined to go and comfort her ; 
but no, she would wait until Mademoi- 
selle Plangon showed some disposition 
to give her confidence.’' 


40 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


CHAPTER III. 

After several months The Gen- 
eral had arrived in Paris. He was a 
frequent visitor to Evlyn. He con- 
tinued to talk literature ” and give 
good advice. By degrees he varied 
their conversations with sweet noth- 
ings and delicate compliments, yet 
matrimony was a subject he carefully 
avoided. 

Evlyn still admired the man and en- 
joyed his society. She appreciated his 
pleasant compliments and wondered 
what their issue would be. There were 
times, however, when she found herself 
puzzled in that she was unable to read 
him. 

The General ” cleverly recognized 


WOMEN WHO LAUGN 


41 


those moments in Evlyn, and hastened, 
without seeming to do so, to reassure 
her, by word and manner, of his sin- 
cerity of purpose and honesty of 
character. 

One evening they sat chatting in the 
salon. Mademoiselle Plangon passed 
by the doorway, going out. The Gen- 
eral saw her. 

Who is that woman ? ” he quickly 
inquired. He spoke in a quizzical, in- 
sinuating tone, just as he would have 
spoken to a man comrade on the street- 
corner at the passing of a woman with 
her ankles exposed to attract atten- 
tion. 

Evlyn’s sensitive nature was imme- 
diately on the defensive. 

“ I know nothing of her,” she replied, 
with much dignity, except that she 
is my next-door neighbor, alone, and 
evidently a troubled woman who has 


42 


WOMEAT WHO LAUGH. 


aroused my sympathy. No matter 
who and what she is, there are few 
women with a brighter mind or a bet- 
ter heart. I have had evidence of 
both ! ” 

The General ” threw his head back 
and gave a hearty laugh. 

I fail to see the cause of your mer- 
riment,” she added, with a touch of in- 
dignation. 

The General ” came to his senses. 

I beg your pardon,” he replied, sud- 
denly, looking serious, and speaking in 
a tone of pity for her innocence, and 
with a look of admiration for her 
purity. You know. Miss Dole ” — he al- 
ways called her Miss Dole” when giv- 
ing advice, Miss Evlyn ” when utter- 
ing sweet nothings — I told you the 
people of Paris are not the people of 
your quiet town. Your first experience 
with ‘The Great Madame ' should havq 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


43 


taught you that. From the little you 
have said of her, and the passing glance 
I had, I am perfectly sure this Mademoi- 
selle Plangon is no associate for you. 
I have a fatherly interest in you ; take 
my advice and have nothing to do with 
her. I dare say she is a woman of 
strong personalities, and her influence 
over a credulous, innocent nature like 
yours will not be for the best.” 

General, you cannot compare ‘ The 
Great Madame' and Mademoiselle Plan- 
gon ; they are entirely different. The 
former is an elderly woman of fame, and 
fortune, and independent. Mademoi- 
selle Plangon is yet a young woman. 
While there is something mysterious 
about her, be her life what it may, she 
walks its path alone. Not one person 
has called on her since she came here. 
She has none of the luxuries of wealth, 
but is evidently a struggling, unhappy 


44 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


woman. I can give her a kindly word 
of sympathy without being her asso- 
ciate. As for her influence over me 
for bad, I do not fear it. You remem- 
ber when I left you at the steamer you 
said, ‘ Be true to your mother’s religion.’ 
To do that I must have charity. So 
much do I respect my mother and her 
religion, that I assure you there is no 
power under heaven that could persuade 
me to do an act that would make her 
blush that I am her child. I find, if 
you want influence over another for 
good, that you must show that you have 
confidence in the person.” 

While she talked The General” 
regarded her fixedly. When she had 
finished there was a long pause. He 
sighed and rose to say good-night. 

Miss Dole, you argue well, but we 
still differ in regard to Mademoiselle 
Plangon,” The General ” said, as he 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH, 


45 

went out with rather a disconsolate 
air. After he had gone, Evlyn won- 
dered why he had sighed. 

The next evening there was a great 
fete in Paris. All was brilliancy and 
excitement. The streets and boule- 
vards teemed with gayly-dressed mask- 
ers, while the public buildings had on 
their holiday dress of flags and lighted 
gas-jets. The search-light on the Tro- 
cadero stretched out its great revolving 
arms and embraced the night. The 
houses were deserted and all Paris was 
in the streets. Bands of music were 
stationed in prominent and popular 
places, adding zest to the gayeties. 
Evlyn and the old concierge were the 
sole occupants of the pension. The 
others had gone to enjoy the merry- 
making and see the illuminations. She 
had been suffering from a severe head- 
ache all day, and feared the crush and 


46 WOMEN WHO LAUGH, 

noise of the crowd would make her ill. 
She had to guard so carefully her 
strength. 

As she was lying quietly on her bed, 
thinking of her work and revelling in 
her ambitions, she heard Mademoiselle 
Plan^on enter her room about nine 
o'clock, after having been out all the 
afternoon, something unusual for her. 
The house was dark and still. The 
concierge had told her that every one 
had gone out. Mademoiselle Plangon 
thought she was alone. She had been 
in her room a short while when Evlyn 
heard her weeping bitterly. Her grief 
was intense, and she cried aloud, sev- 
eral times calling on the name of the 
Lord. Suddenly Evlyn heard her 
spring to her feet, and, as if tearing the 
words from her lips, say, with desperate 
determination, I will not live to see 
the light of another day ! I will drown 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


47 


myself ! To-morrow I’ll rest in the 
morgue — yes, rest, rest ! ” With that 
she ran into the passage-way and down 
the dark stairs, repeating at intervals 
the word “ rest.” 

It all happened so quickly that Evlyn 
was at first confused. In a moment 
she had regained her self-possession. 
‘‘ What ! this woman going to kill her- 
self, and I lie here and do nothing to 
prevent it ? I would feel I was in part 
guilty of her death. There is no one 
here but the old concierge. He would 
not dare to leave the house without a 
keeper. There is nothing I can do but 
go myself. I’ll call the assistance of a 
gendarme if necessary.” 

These thoughts rushed in quick suc- 
cession through her brain. Without 
taking time to think further, she slipped 
a warm cloak about her and hast- 
ened after Mademoiselle Plangon. As 


48 WOMEN WHO LAUGH 

she reached the street she saw her 
white figure disappear around a corner. 
On she ran after her. She was almost 
near enough to call, when one of a 
crowd of dancers in the street rushed 
out and drew Mademoiselle Plangon 
into their ring. She wore nothing but 
light underwear and her night-dress. 
Her wealth of golden hair fell about 
her shoulders in great waves. She pre- 
sented a pitiful sight as the light fell 
full upon her pallid cheeks and tear- 
stained eyes. The dancers soon recog- 
nized their mistake. They had taken 
her to be a masker. Let her go,'’ 
said one, “ she is crazy.” It is no 
time for tears,” said another, and they 
left her alone. 

The crowd had come between Evlyn 
and Mademoiselle Plangon. The for- 
mer made her way through its edge 
and was again on a close chase. She 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


49 

was within twenty steps of the flee- 
ing woman, when she called her, but 
her voice was .drowned by a crowd of 
noisy students coming out of a caf^. 
Mademoiselle’s white attire and golden 
hair attracted them, whereupon they 
immediately surrounded her, and began 
showering confetti. Her hair caught 
the bits of silver paper, giving her a 
fantastic appearance. She is the im- 
age of her,” said one of the youths 
to himself, as he peered closely into 
her face ; but it cannot be, for she 

always laughs, and this woman is cry- 
) > 

mg. 

Mademoiselle implored them to let 
her go, and, like the others, thinking 
she was demented, and seeing her dis- 
tress, they turned away. A few, through 
curiosity, were inclined to follow her. 
Seeing this, she ran into a dark, narrow 
street. The revellers, not wishing to 
4 


50 WOMEN WHO LAUGH, 

leave the gay boulevard, turned back 
to their comrades. 

Evlyn was discouraged as she stood 
looking up and down in the dark. She 
could not see the white figure, yet she 
was sure she saw her turn into that 
street. She was about to give up the 
pursuit when she saw Mademoiselle 
emerge from the recess of a gateway. 
It was the entrance to a convent, and 
she had been kneeling before the cross 
over the arch. ‘‘ Mademoiselle Plan- 
gon ! ’’ Evlyn called loudly. The woman 
never once turned to see who had 
called, but at the sound of her own 
name ran away towards the river. 

Evlyn was almost exhausted from 
the chase, and felt she could go no 
further, but seeing Mademoiselle rush- 
ing madly towards the banks of the 
Seine, and no gendarme near, she felt 
she must go on, and nerved herself 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


SI 

once more. Too late ! ” she gasped, 
stopping breathlessly at the top of the 
steps leading down to a small boat- 
landing, as she saw Mademoiselle 
Plangon rush to the end of the narrow 
pier and raise her hands over her head, 
making ready to plunge. 

Just at this moment a boat-load of 
pleasure-seekers, playing their guitars 
and singing, appeared under the arched 
bridge near by. Mademoiselle hesi- 
tated. She was sufficiently herself to 
reason that if she jumped the people 
in the boat would see her and go to 
the rescue. That she would prevent, 
and sank back into the shadow of the 
little station to wait until they passed. 

Evlyn comprehended the situation. 
She ran quickly down the steps to 
Mademoiselle's side. The latter gave 
a startled cry and pushed Evlyn aside, 
turning once more towards the water. 


52 WOMEN WHO LAUGH 

** It is only Evlyn Dole, Mademoi- 
selle Plangon, your good friend, if only 
you will let me be,'* she said, seiz- 
ing firmly Mademoiselle's hand, while 
gently drawing her back. The pleasure- 
boat was passing. Its fairy-like lanterns 
threw a mellow glow into Mademoi- 
selle's corner. She suddenly took 
Evlyn's face between both her hands, 
and gazed silently into it, until both 
the light and music had melted away 
into the distance, and then again began 
weeping bitterly. 

‘‘ Come," said Evlyn, you are stiff 
with cold ; there is no one at home, so 
let us go and talk together there." 

Mademoiselle Plangon rose, but her 
strength again failed her. ‘‘ Oh ! let 
me go," she pleaded pitifully, turning 
her eyes wistfully towards the water. 

Look how the waters reach out 
their arms to receive me ; they would 


WOMEN- WHO LAUGH. 


53 

rock me to sleep and I would have 
rest ! 

Evlyn only slipped one arm about 
her, kissed her tear-stained cheek, and 
drew her towards the steps. She went 
without further resistance. Evlyn 
hailed a passing cab and the two were 
soon on their way home. Mademoiselle’s 
golden head resting exhausted on 
Evlyn’s shoulder. As they entered the 
gateway, on arriving at home, Evlyn 
saw “ The General ” coming out of the 
door. He at the same moment recog- 
nized Evlyn and Mademoiselle Plan- 
gon. Thinking he had not been seen, 
he stepped back quickly into the dark 
entresol until the two women had 
passed up the steps. 

Evlyn turned to see his dark figure 
pass out into the court. I suppose 
he remembers our conversation about 
Mademoiselle, and has gone away 


WOMEN- WHO LAUGH. 


54 

provoked, or disappointed, at seeing 
me with her ; but I feel I am doing my 
duty,” she said to herself. That was 
the last time she saw The General ” 
for a long while. 

On reaching her room. Mademoiselle 
Plan^on lay quietly upon her bed for 
some moments. Evlyn thought she 
was sleeping from exhaustion, when 
she suddenly opened her eyes and 
looked long and earnestly at her, and 
began to talk slowly : 

I came from nowhere. Is that my 
fault ? I am without father or mother, 
or even a name. Is that my fault ? 
When I was a child in the convent I 
did not suffer, for I did not comprehend ; 
but when I reached the age of ma- 
turity and went into the world it met 
me at the first step, an armed sentinel, 
and demanded, ^ Who are you ? * I 
could not answer. Was that my fault. ^ 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


55 

Yet I was treated as a felon and con- 
demned by society ; the galley-slave is 
not more fettered or humiliated than I. 
Oh, whose fault is it? How I hate all 
mankind so that I may reach the 
guilty ! 

With these words she rallied and 
sprang up in bed with a wild expres- 
sion in her eyes. 

Come,’' said Evlyn, sweetly, don’t 
torment your mind with such unhappy 
thoughts to-night. Take this wine to 
warm your numb fingers and try to 
sleep. To-morrow, when you are rested, 
we will talk again.” 

Mademoiselle Plangon sank back 
upon her pillow. As Evlyn bent over 
her. Mademoiselle threw her arms 
about her neck and clung to her piti- 
fully. 

Oh ! how I wish I were like you,” 
she said, so pure and good, so kind 


56 WOMEN WHO LAUGH 

and generous, and always happy! I 
did not believe there was one like you 
in all the world! You are but a 
stranger to me, yet for you alone I 
turned from death. There was no 
one else would care. Yet why did 
you bring me back to suffer ? I 
am so tired, and you do not under- 
stand ! 

To-morrow I will,” said Evlyn, 
but before I go promise me one thing 
only — that you will never take your 
own life.” 

Mademoiselle buried her face in her 
pillow, as if struggling with herself. 

Don't hesitate, my dear friend ; I 
know life to many is hard, to some 
cruel, but be brave, noble, and if you 
will let me I will help you by my 
sympathy to live. There is a God and 
an eternity, you know.” 

There was a moment's silence. I 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


57 

promise you/’ Mademoiselle said at 
last, calmly. 

To-morrow then,” said Evlyn with 
a happy smile, as she leaned over and 
kissed Mademoiselle good-night. 


58 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


CHAPTER IV. 

The next morning an envelope ad- 
dressed to the madame of the pension, 
containing the money for Mademoiselle 
Plangon's board and an order for her 
trunk, was found in her room. Made- 
moiselle had gone, no one knew where. 
The cocker who came for her baggage 
was well instructed, and told nothing. 

Evlyn was surprised, and a little dis- 
appointed, but made no comments. 
She, in a measure, read the unfortunate 
woman and her position, yet she had 
sufficient confidence in her to believe, 
though she had thus suddenly dropped 
out of her life, that she would keep her 
word and not destroy herself. Both 
Mademoiselle Plangon and The Gen- 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH, 


59 

eral ’’ became things of the past to 
Evlyn, except when they returned in 
thought. 

One evening, as she lay upon her 
bed, with one of her horrible headaches, 
which so often tormented her. Made- 
moiselle's last words came to her. 
‘‘ Always happy ! " she repeated to 
herself. Ah ! how little she knew of 
the sufferings of my poor heart ! With 
a widowed mother, and six younger 
brothers and sisters to be fed, clothed 
and educated, and only limited means 
with which to meet these demands, — a 
father who sleeps in a drunkard's grave, 
how can one always be happy ! " 

Evlyn was like the night-blooming 
cereus — the darkness of her sorrow 
only brought out the fragrance and 
purity of her nature. Her pride was 
often wounded, and she would seek 
seclusion, but the moment she was in 


6o WOMEN WHO LAUGH 

company the door was closed upon self, 
and she went forth a sympathetic, cor- 
dial woman to meet the world. She 
had long since realized that that was 
the only way to be tolerated by it. 
She found that the paths allotted to 
mourners were obscure, narrow, and 
desolate. 

Evlyn had moments of ecstasy. Joy 
would leap in flashes from her eyes, 
and she would tremble with excitement. 
In such moments she was sure of suc- 
cess, sure of being able to make her 
family comfortable, sure of her place in 
the world as a great artist. For some 
weeks she had many such moments. 
She was growing a little stronger, the 
horrible headaches came less frequently, 
and Monsieur le Maestro was so proud 
of her rapid progress. He took such 
an interest in everything she did and 
said, and was so generous with his tim^ 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 6i 

and attention. She sang at all of his 
class musicals and received the highest 
commendation. Several times she had 
been embarrassed in her lessons, by 
singing for Monsieur le Maestro when 
he listened without hearing, and at the 
end would ask her to repeat. At the 
same time he would be staring steadily 
at her, or else standing at the window, 
his hands folded behind him, medita- 
tively looking out without seeing. 

Come and dine with me on Sunday, 
mon enfant^' he surprised her by say- 
ing one day. ‘‘ My wife’s old compan- 
ion will keep Mrs. Grey company while 
you and I talk over your future.” 

Evlyn was flattered, for she knew 
how seldom he entertained. He al- 
ways called her^^ mon enfant,” or ma 
chere enfant,” and in many ways 
treated her as such. He spoke to her 
in a fatherly tone, with kindly interest. 


62 . WOMEN WHO LAUGH 

She was as agreeably surprised to find 
him genial and sympathetic as she was 
disappointed in the lack of soul in The 
Great Madame.” There is a touch of 
human nature which makes us all akin,” 
she said to herself, for one finds both 
the good and bad everywhere.” 

It became customary for Evlyn to 
dine with Monsieur le Maestro on 
Sundays. She looked forward with 
great pleasure to these occasions. They 
were no longer only master and pupil, 
but the best of friends. Added to 
their friendship was perfect congenial- 
ity, an element rare between two souls. 
For hours they would sit and talk 
without tiring. Monsieur le Maestro 
planned a debut and a great future for 
her in Paris. 

Were my dear wife alive, we would 
adopt you,” he said, but as it is you 
shall always be my protdgeeT 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 63 

Evlyn felt an ease with him that was 
delightful. She believed in him, and 
he understood her. His face always 
brightened when she came, and several 
times he kissed her hand as she went 
away. 

‘Ht was the one great love of my 
life,’’ he said, speaking of his wife to 
Evlyn. He often talked of her, of how 
he first met and loved her. She was 
a woman like you, with mind and heart 
and character. She was a great opera- 
singer, and we sang together. That is 
the only style of woman I would advise 
to adopt the stage. To the others it 
is destruction. For you I would have 
no fear. The profession would never 
degrade you, but you would dignify it. 
I had met many women, but none 
made but a passing impression until 
I knew my wife. I had before, in a 
measure, laughed at and defied love, 


64 WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 

but it came to me suddenly, uninvited, 
and stayed with me. It will remain 
with me always, for her ; I shall never 
love another.” 

It is said that you are fond of your 
old accompanist. Mademoiselle Dela- 
port, and that she loves you. She is a 
noble woman, as you have described 
your wife. Her life, like yours, is so 
cheerless and lonely.” 

Evlyn ceased abruptly, for she saw 
her words pained him. He looked at 
her a moment, and then said : ‘‘ Did 
you ever love, mon enfant ? ” 

No, mon 7naUre^ I have tried, but 
it is as Carmen says, love is the child of 
bohemia and knows no law. I wish 
I could, for my heart is very lonely 
sometimes, and longs for companion- 
ship. Opportunities have presented 
themselves, but it has ended by my 
either pitying or despising.” 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 65 

Do not try any longer ; with a 
nature like yours it is useless. The 
source of your life-stream is sincerity, 
nobility of purpose, strong and refined 
intellect, flowing on to a happy eternity. 
A combination of like elements in man 
is not found every day. There are 
men of fine material, I grant, whose 
society you may enjoy, but, au fond^ 
if there is not perfect congeniality, 
there can be no permanent happiness or 
lasting union. Any other union would 
be but a form to be severed, and then 
in death the unfettered spirit would 
seek its own.” 

How many of these uncongenial 
unions one sees nowadays, and yet 
many of them get along peaceably, 
philosophically, making the best of 
life.” 

‘‘Yes, theirs is a kind of chemical 
affinity. You know sulphuric acid 
S 


66 


WOMEN WHO LA UGN 


combines with lime, and forms gypsum, 
but if potash is added the sulphuric 
acid leaves the lime and combines with 
the potash. So such persons unite 
with the best that presents itself, but 
the moment they come in contact with 
the more congenial, they divorce them- 
selves from the former for the latter ; 
if not bodily, then spiritually. This 
chemical choosing is called elective 
affinity.” 

Ah ! I see, mon maitre^ and it is 
not necessary for the elected affinity to 
present himself or herself in person, 
for how often I have heard patient, 
forbearing people say regret full}/', ‘ If 
only my wife, or my husband, would 
like the things that I like, or sym- 
pathize with me in my line of life. If 
she or he only had this disposition or 
that.* They have before them an 
ideal, and are in a way united with it, 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH, 67 

and as you say, in another sphere, if not 
here, I believe will find congeniality/* 
Then you believe in the recognition 
and union of souls ? ” 

Oh, yes, recognition after death 
was proved clearly at the transfig- 
uration of our Lord on the Mount, 
when Moses and Elias appeared and 
talked with him. That event helps 
also to confirm my belief in angels* 
visits to this material world. There 
are many who talk of the ' divine rev- 
elations of the Bible,’ but who will 
change the subject if asked if they be- 
lieve in ministering angels. To my 
mind we have but to reach out our 
hands to be in touch with the spirit- 
world. It is only our blindness which 
keeps us from seeing. Are we not 
separated from the spirit-world, not by 
space but by the condition of our being, 
just as the blind are separated from the 


68 WOMEN WHO LAUGH 

physical world around them? Human 
nature loves to be deluded, therefore 
many prefer the slate and writings of 
unseen hands, a dancing table or mes- 
sage from a dead friend, through a 
dreamy-eyed medium, at the cost of 
five dollars an hour, to the still small 
voice in their hearts calling from the 
true spiritual world.’* 

I agree with you, mon enfant. 
There was a time when the Church had 
distinct and important doctrines in re- 
gard to the ministry of angels. I am 
truly sorry that this extreme material 
age has in a measure lost sight of them. 
And that union there, what consola- 
tion ! ” 

‘^Yes, an unselfish spiritual union. 
As you said a moment ago, the unfet- 
tered spirit will seek its own. I under- 
stand ' its own ’ to be as the encom- 
passing love and companionship of 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 69 

souls. There can be no selfish love 
there. We have no pure love here 
save that of a child. Why, I have 
heard people talk who really believed 
they would meet their dead love, or 
some one affinity there, and wander 
with them alone, like lovers here below, 
to some shady nook, hiding away to 
make a little paradise all for them- 
selves.'’ 

Monsieur le Maestro was thoughtful 
for a moment. ‘‘ And you have never 
loved,” he said abruptly, rising and 
walking to the window, one hand in 
his trousers pocket, the other slowly 
ploughing its fingers through his sil- 
very hair. 

No, and now I doubt if I ever shall. 
I am too settled in my idea. Look ! 
Coco is beginning to carry arms. Now, 
if I were young like him I might learn 
new tricks,” she answered, letting their 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


70 

conversation wander off into triviali- 
ties. 

I see I have mistaken you/' Mon- 
sieur le Maestro replied, with a faint 
smile at her allusion to her advancing 
years. But you sing with such pathos 
and feeling, and the expression of your 
eyes haunts me sometimes. I thought 
you must have suffered." 

Ah ! mon maitre, I have, and do. 
It is the reflection of my weary soul 
that you see there. I never let sighs 
escape my lips, therefore they turn to 
its windows. There must be relief 
sometime, somehow," she said, again 
becoming serious. Then she told him 
her life's story, of her struggles with 
poverty, pride, and ambition. He was 
the only person to whom she ever 
spoke about herself. He listened 
patiently and became deeply inter- 
ested. He could not describe just 


WOMEN WHO LA UGH 7 1 

what feelings she aroused in him. He 
knew he admired and sympathized 
with her, that he felt tenderly towards 
her as his own. He realized how much 
he enjoyed being with her, how con- 
genial they were, but ‘‘ he was sure he 
did not love her as one wishing to 
marry her. That would never be.*’ 
Somehow she v/as seldom quite out of 
his mind. Even in his busiest mo- 
ments she would come to him in 
thought. 

Several months passed, during which 
time this friendly intercourse continued 
between them. Evlyn became a con- 
necting link between Monsieur le Maes- 
tro and the world he had left ten years 
before. She came with her witty 
speeches and clever description of the 
opera, the theatre, and the gay life 
generally of Paris. She became a ray 
of sunshine to his gloomy home. 


72 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


I wish I could keep you always 
with me, as my child ! he said tenderly 
one day, kissing her brow. Even my 
pet Coco barks and wags his tail with 
delight when you come, and the very 
statues about the studio, with their 
serious expression, seem for the time 
to smile. To-morrow after High Mass 
I want you to lunch with me. In the 

afternoon I will goto V for vespers 

with my wife. Won’t you go with 
me ? ” he said, in a low, persuasive tone. 

‘Wes, mon mattre^ I will go,” Evlyn 
endeavored to say naturally, but some- 
how she was choked and could not 
raise her eyes to his in her old frank 
way, but let them wander to the 
pictures on the wall or cast them to 
the flowers on the carpet. 

The “to-morrow” was the anniver- 
sary of the death of Monsieur le Maes- 
tro’s wife. A mass was to be sung for 


WOMEN WHO LA UGH, 


73 

her in the morning, at the church of 
Notre Dame, by all his pupils, Evlyn 
having the solos. She did not under- 
stand her feelings, but was somehow de- 
pressed about it all. She had left Mon- 
sieur le Maestro so quiet and sad. He 
held her hand for a long while as he 
said au revoir^ and seemed unusually 
troubled. For a month he had not 
been his usual self. He would meet 
her cordially, but without a smile. He 
would stare out of the windows more 
frequently, and his mind wandered 
from his lessons continually. Every 
one noticed the change, and said that 
it was the approaching anniversary 
made him so. 

Evlyn walked home slowly that 
afternoon, full of pensive thoughts. 
The sun went down a great red ball, 
and the twilight came with its hazy 
atmosphere and mystic shadows. I 


WOMEN" WHO LAUGH 


74 

am tired, no one knows me, I’ll be 
plebeian and rest here a while,” Evlyn 
thought, as she reached the Arc de 
Triomphe. The five great avenues 
and boulevards, teeming with life and 
gayety, stretched out star-like from 
their stone centre. The many cab- 
lamps looked like flitting fire-flies far 
down the Champs Elysee. One of the 
arches of the Arc formed an imposing 
frame for a bit of dreamy landscape. 
Avenue Kl^ber melted into a misty 
perspective — rows of lights and a com- 
pany of soldiers, resting on their guns, 
in the foreground, the whole softened 
by the faint glow of a new moon. 

The eve before the battle,” said 
Evlyn, naming the picture. The 
word battle ” suggested other warlike 
scenes and the great Napoleon, under 
whose triumphal arch she sat. 

And this is his monument ! ” she 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH, 75 

reflected. Of all the great arches, that 
of Del Sempione, in Milan, Porta San 
Gallo in Florence, and Titus and Con- 
stantine, of Rome, this is the greatest. 
The ambitious man would not have had 
it otherwise, and he ordered it as a 
symbol of his triumphs over almost 
every nation of Europe. What stu- 
pendous vanity ! What cruel ambition 
to erect such a structure to vainglory, 
with blood, heartaches, and tears. And 
poor Josephine ! How well I remem- 
ber an Indian summer afternoon last 
fall. A fitting sun it was, with a 
mellow autumn sadness in its shine, 
that cast its rays athwart the dust- 
covered floors of Malmaison. What a 
monument of patheticness ! Josephine 
rose like a ghost before me as I trod 
the deserted banquet-halls. Every- 
thing neglected, in a way forgotten. 
The little chapel, rapidly falling to de- 


76 WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 

cay, was most impressive. Ungodly 
hands had defaced its walls and pil- 
laged its sacred altars. Ah ! how often 
did that unfortunate woman bend her 
knee there in supplication, her heart 
bursting with sorrow, telling her God of 
its weight. I could see her tearful eyes 
and pallid face, even hear the rustle of 
her silken robe, as she bent and clasped 
her hands before the Holy of Holies. 
Of that sacred altar all that is now left 
is an empty box hanging with cobwebs. 
Even the spiders that spun them lay 
dead in their meshes. Why do her 
remains now rest at quiet Neuilly and 
Napoleon under a gilded dome in 
Paris ? and is it so that he now sits on a 
throne in the seventh heaven and she 
in the third below? Ah no ! it cannot 
be. He cannot marshal the heavenly 
hosts as he gathered the troops of men. 
Like Alexander the Great, and Julius 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH, 


77 

Caesar, he was ambitious, and so are 
not a few of to-day, with judgment 
dazzled and passions inflamed by mar- 
vellous success. How much better we 
can stand adversity than success ! ” 
Thus thinking, Evlyn rose and 
went her way, oblivious to passers-by, 
unable to comprehend the strange 
mood upon her. 


78 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH, 


CHAPTER V. 

She heard you, ma chire enfant, 
and gave you her blessing ! Monsieur 
le Maestro said, the tears dimming his 
eyes, as he took both Evlyn’s hands in 
his and kissed them fervently. ‘‘You 
never sang like that before, and you 
can never sing better! Yes, it was the 
voice of inspiration ! '' 

They had lunched, and with the 
priest, the old housekeeper, and Coco, 
were on their way to V . 

V is a village a few miles out of 

Paris, quietly sleeping out its existence. 
During the days of the great Napoleon 
the Emperor had a summer chateau 
there. In consequence it was a resort 
for the most select and wealthy ; but 


WOMEJSr WHO LAUGH 79 

since the fall of the empire V had 

gradually become a deserted village of 
chateaux in ruins. Only a few scat- 
tered families of limited means inhab- 
ited the desolate place. The father of 
Monsieur le Maestro was one of the 
exclusives who had lived there when 
it was in its glory. It was there 
Monsieur le Maestro had brought his 
bride, and had first lived so happily. 
It was at her request that her remains 
now rested in the little cemetery on 
the edge of the village. 

‘‘You are so beautiful !” Monsieur 
le Maestro said audibly, yet speaking 
to himself, as he took Evlyn's hand 

to assist her from the coup^ at V . 

The situation was awkward for Evlyn. 
She did not know whether to be se- 
rious or cheerful. She felt the former, 
but Monsieur le Maestro had a calm 
expression, and talked in a more 


8o WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 

natural way than she had noticed for 
some days. She soon adapted herself 
to his mood, and fell to talking of the 
passing scenes. 

The sky was a canopy of dull gray, 
the trees were barren, and no vestige of 
green was to be seen, save the grand 
old ivy, creeping over crumbling walls 
and high iron gates. 

This plant is like your love for her,’' 
Evlyn ventured to say, “ living when 
all else is dead, through storm and sun- 
shine, ever the same.” 

‘‘Always the poet,” Monsieur le 
Maestro replied, with a faint smile. 
“ The trees, the flowers, all that is good 
and beautiful, speak to you in a lan- 
guage not understood by grosser 
natures.” 

They passed an old hunting-lodge, 
before the door of which sat a lone 
man smoking his pipe, and stirring a 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 8i 

steaming pot over a bed of coals. 
Monsieur le Maestro said he had re- 
cently arrived there, and seemed to 
have no occupation save that of filling 
his pipe ; that he had the manner of 
enjoying his own society, and had 
surely selected the spot to be undis- 
turbed by that of others. 

Occasionally a face would appear at 
the window or doorway, curiously re- 
garding the passing company, while 
the hollow, melancholy bark of some 
stray dog was taken up by the sighing 
wind, filling the air with weird plain- 
tiveness. 

Evlyn had summoned all her courage 
to keep up her spirits, but as she 
reached the gate of the cemetery a 
faint shudder crept over her. It, like 
the village, was neglected, the bead- 
wreaths and crosses lying half-covered 

in dirt and ddbris. It was a small en- 
6 


82 WOMEN WHO LAUGH 

closure with but one noticeable feature, 
— the marble tomb of Monsieur le 
Maestro’s wife. 

On reaching its doorway, he un- 
locked it and stepped back for the 
priest to precede. As Evlyn entered, 
a statue of the Mater Dolorosa, in 
marble, stood white and calm to greet 
her. On one side was an altar, with an 
open missal and a crucifix. The walls 
were all hung about with bead designs 
and decorations of artificial flowers. 
After a short chant by the priest, in 
a monotonous voice, adding to the 
solemnity of the occasion, the little 
company left the chapel and proceeded 
to the vault below. 

Are you afraid ? ” questioned Mon- 
sieur le Maestro, as they descended the 
narrow stairs. 

Oh, no,” Evlyn replied, at the same 
time endeavoring to swallow the chok- 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 83 

ing lump in her throat, and quiet her 
loud heart-throbs. 

The setting sun had burst the thick 
gray and cast long rays through the 
stained-glass windows, paling the 
flickering jet of the sanctuary lamp. 
There again the walls were covered 
with floral offerings, and in their midst 
hung a likeness of the dead woman. 
In one corner were a small crucifix, 
two lighted tapers, and a bisque angel 
holding a shell basin of holy water. 
Against the wall were several chairs 
and two praying-desks. In the centre 
of the tomb was a rich casket, in the 
lid of which, at the head, was a small 
door shut with a gold lock. 

The priest took up the silver asper- 
gillus and made the sign of the cross 
over the casket. His last '‘amen'' 
echoed itself to sleep, leaving Monsieur 
le Maestro and Evlyn alone with death. 


84 W0M£N' WHO LAl/GH 

There was a moment of perfect stillness. 
Then Monsieur le Maestro rose from 
his knees where he had been praying, 
and, taking a gold key from his pocket, 
opened the small lid over the face of 
the corpse, exposing it to view under a 
thin sheet of glass. The features were 
quite distinct, but emaciated. The 
skin looked as if petrified. The hair 
was natural, and a few new ones 
seemed to have grown about the fore- 
head, short and standing upright. The 
teeth were chalky white, a little exposed, 
and the tout ensemble was ghastly in 
the extreme. 

For some moments Monsieur le 
Maestro bent over the body and stared 
steadily into the cadaverous face. 
Several times his lips moved inaudibly 
and the veins about his temples be- 
came swollen and blue. Suddenly he 
turned his eyes wildly upon Evlyn, 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 85 

where she sat, cold, and the tears trick- 
ling down her cheeks. At the sight of 
her emotion he instantly became calm. 
He looked at her intently for some 
time, then quietly closed the lid over 
the dead, uttered a low, deep groan, and 
sank by Evlyn’s side, taking her in his 
arms. 

Poor, beautiful angel ! he said 
tenderly. ‘‘ I was cruel to subject 
you to this, but I wanted to be sure, 
I did not want to be a coward ! 
Listen, ma chere enfant. You know 
how I loved my wife, how I love her 
still ; but I have wronged her and my- 
self. At her death, by a special permit 
from the authorities of Paris, it being 
against the law to bury exposed to 
view, I had her put away thus, after a 
custom of my native Italy. I was 
crazed with grief, and felt I could not 
exist without seeing her, even if in 


86 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


death. So from day to day I came 
here, clinging to this form, harrowing 
and distressing my mind. My melan- 
choly became morbid, and I turned in- 
ward, feeding upon myself. Being self- 
centred, I forgot others, left the world 
and shut myself in, even barring the 
door to those who sought me in my 
seclusion with a friendly knock. It is 
true I taught, and took an interest in 
my pupils, but why? To fill the days. 
There was nothing generous in that. 
When you came, peace to my troubled 
soul came with you. You began to 
take me out of myself and I, all uncon- 
sciously, began to take an interest in 
you. At first I thought nothing of 
the pleasure your coming gave me, but 
noticed more your improvement in mind 
and body. I saw the plaintiveness in 
your eyes less frequent and was glad. 
You would come to me in thought un- 


WOMEJ\r WHO LAUGH, 87 

bidden, until slowly I began to feel you 
were a part of my life, and did not try 
to send you away. I wakened up to the 
realization that you were the only per- 
son I had met since the death of my 
wife whose presence was soothing, and 
with whom I could forget. What to 
call this attachment, and what to do 
with it, suddenly confronted me. I 
became alarmed and said : I will send 
her away, it must go no further. Then 
for a month I struggled with myself, 
I used every argument against you. 
Through it all something said : It must 
have been her, my guardian angel ; why 
send her away when God sent her; why 
grieve the spirit ? Is there not some- 
thing of false pride in your desire to 
withstand, as well as devoted faithful- 
ness? She has brought you all good 
and no evil. Would your noble wife 
commend this grovelling ? Would you 


88 WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 

not be nearer her to lift your head, ac- 
cept your cross, and make its burden 
light by overcoming? I went to the 
Holy Book and read, and I found that 
the most perfect man who ever lived 
did not shut himself in, but mingled 
with all classes, from the highest to the 
lowest, and was in touch with humanity. 
He did not cut off part of the elements 
of his nature, abnormally developing 
the others, but combined them all into 
a perfect whole. If you bring hap- 
piness to me, why refuse it for some 
false sentiment ? That I am fond of 
you does not make me love her less. 
She will always be via femme to me, 
won't you always be mon enfant ? The 
quality of the love is the same.” 

Evlyn was trembling and would have 
replied, but could not, for her emotion 
stifled utterance. 

‘‘ Here are two pictures,” Monsieur 


WOMEN- WHO LAUGH, 89 

le Maestro went on, one of the ma- 
jestic mountains, the other of the grand 
old ocean, different subjects, but alike 
in their power of inspiration. The man 
who can but love one thing of beauty 
in this life is indeed to be pitied. 
When he is removed from the moun- 
tain's sublimity, shall he close his eyes 
and say, ‘ I will not see the grandeur of 
the ocean'? How I thank God for 
having sent two such loves into my 
life ! Speak to me, moit enfant^ tell 
me you will stay with me always, tell 
me that you love me ! " 

Monsieur le Maestro gently took 
Evlyn's chin and lifted her face. Her 
eyes met his. A strange thrill shot 
through every fibre of her being. Her 
dark eyes shone with a new light, and her 
olive cheeks burned with a new glow. 

Oh ! mon maitre^' she began ear- 
nestly, I do not know how to speak to 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


90 

you, to tell you how I feel. I did not 
dream such happiness was to be mine 
in life — to be loved by such a noble 
man. When I came to you, my heart 
was so heavy, but no one knew it — I 
suffered alone. You saw that, and in 
your sympathy for me forgot in a 
measure your own grief. I have done 
nothing for your happiness ; you have 
done it for yourself. I am glad you 
have brought me here ; it has only con- 
vinced me of your faithfulness, so seldom 
met in men. Did you love your wife 
less, I would not respect you more. I 
could not regard such love with peev- 
ish jealousy. I have been happier since 
I knew you, and have often wondered 
at the calm which gradually came over 
my soul, and the cause of my thought- 
ful moods. Sometimes I said ‘ I could 
love a man like Monsieur le Maestro,' 
but I did not think of aspiring to what 


WOMEN- WHO LAUGH, 


91 

seemed the unattainable. I could have 
been happy with you always as pupil, 
master, and friend, had you remained 
silent, but not now, for you have opened 
to me a new life unspeakable ! I can 
never go back ” 

Evlyn would have finished, but Mon- 
sieur le Maestro interrupted her with a 
fervent Thank God ! ” and kissed her 
again and again. 

Suddenly a soft, strange music, seem- 
ing to come from some distant heavenly 
choir, stole softly into the sacred vault. 
Evlyn started and listened. 

It is the aeolianharp in the window 
there, to soften the moan of the east 
wind,” explained Monsieur le Maestro. 

The two stood and listened together 
until their souls were filled with a strange 
holy love and gratitude. Then hand in 
hand they knelt before the crucifix, 
offering up a good-night prayer. 


92 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


CHAPTER VI. 

The next morning Evlyn woke with 
a start. She had retired the evening 
before with such a light heart, the 
dreary past forgotten, the future so 
bright. Now she felt a dull, heavy de- 
pression creeping over her. She sprang 
up in bed and sat endeavoring to col- 
lect her thoughts. It was not yet day. 
She turned to the window and saw the 
morning star looking straight into her 
face. She rose unconsciously and went 
to the window, returning its gaze. It 
spoke to me,” she said audibly, as if in 
a dream. It seems to move and have 
being ! ” she thought. What if the 
stars are the redeemed souls of the de- 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


93 


parted — if so, how full of good deeds 
and glory is this one ! ” 

Along the eastern horizon was a faint 
divine smile that would soon burst into 
the laughter of the broad light of day. 
The birds began twittering, some of 
them sitting gravely, seeming also to 
contemplate the star. Even the finger- 
like church-spires pointed heavenward 
with more significant gesture. 

Oh ! what is it — why this heavy 
heart? Perhaps it is only the lingering 
darkness ; but his love should light me 
through the deepest shadows. I am 
ungrateful, wicked. Yes, I will be 
happy, I am happy, and will say my 
morning prayers, for the day is here.'’ 

While as yet Evlyn knelt there came 
a rap at her door and a telegram was 
handed in. ‘‘Come at once,” it read, 
and was signed by the old housekeeper 
of Monsieur le Maestro. 


94 WOMEN WHO LAUGH 

And this is it which spoke to me ! 
He is ill, I know, my dear one ! Til go 
to him. He must be well. What could 
have happened to him ? Thus she 
feared and argued while hastening to 
Monsieur le Maestro. 

The housekeeper met her at the door, 
weeping bitterly, and unable to ex- 
plain. 

Oh, this suspense ! ” pleaded Evlyn. 

Speak to me ; tell me what has hap- 
pened ! ” 

Between broken sobs the old woman 
endeavored to say : “ He told me last 
night that you loved each other, and 
he was so happy ! This morning, while 
in bed, poor little Coco came tugging 
at my sleeve. I knew something was 
wrong ; he all but told me so in words. 
I went to Monsieur le Maestro. Oh, 
mon enfant^ it is dreadful ! '' 

Without waiting for her to speak 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


95 

further, Evlyn rushed to his room. 
The student's lamp still burned upon 
the table, and near it lay a piece of 
paper, on which was written in Monsieur 
le Maestro's handwriting, “ It is well 
with my soul. O morning star " 

Here the pen had evidently been 
dropped. On a couch lay the noble 
master, a saintly expression on his face, 
and a small crucifix in his hand. As 
calmly as the sun sinks into the ocean 
at sunset, he had gone into the great 
eternity. Heart disease," the doctor 
explained. 

Poor Evlyn stood for a moment as 
if petrified, then reeled, and lost her 
senses. When next she became con- 
scious it was in her own room after 
several days' delirious fever. For some 
time after she was weak and easily 
prostrated. Slowly she became able 
to sit up, and walk about the room. 


96 WOMEI^ WHO LAUGH 

She had thought before that she had 
trouble, but now it seemed only im- 
aginary in the presence of this terrible 
blow. She struggled to be cheerful 
and take an interest in life for her 
family’s sake, but could not. Depres- 
sion on one hand, and disease on the 
other, began, like vampires, to sap her 
strength and life-blood with a resistless 
force. The old pain had returned to 
her head with intensity, and the sun- 
light of each new day only brought a 
renewal of heavy-heartedness. There 
were moments so full of desolation and 
torture, when she would succumb for 
the time and long to die. In this state 
of despair she retired one night, all 
weary in mind and body, but her eyes 
refused sleep. The tedious hours wore 
on, as she tossed with unrest. Far into 
the night, from exhaustion, she fell 
asleep and dreamed. 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


97 

In that dream she was peacefully 
resting in a hammock that swung on 
her own porch in America, where the 
honeysuckle made the air heavy with 
fragrance. Lying at her feet was a 
slender, affectionate greyhound, his 
paws stretched at length, with his nose 
resting between them. For some time 
he lay quietly there, at intervals open- 
ing and shutting his eyes. Presently 
he yawned, tapering it off with a sort 
of whine, then got up and shook him- 
self, turned around, and lay down again 
in the old position. Only a moment 
he remained there, getting up and 
going to another part of the piazza. 
Soon he returned and came near to 
Evlyn, looking up at her wistfully. 
She sat up, patting and stroking his 
head. For a few moments he rested it 
upon her knee, looking up straight into 
her face as if longing to speak. When 
7 


^8 WOMEN WHO LAUGH 

once more he lay down it was with an 
expression of resigned despair. Evlyn 
resumed her comfortable position in 
the hammock and was just dozing, 
when she heard the dog moaning 
and whining most piteously. She 
endeavored to speak to him, but her 
lips refused to open. Then she tried 
to raise herself and go to him, but her 
limbs were powerless ; she could only 
lie there and see him suffer. She knew 
he suffered, for, though he became 
quiet, his flesh quivered and jerked 
violently. As he stretched himself at 
full length the body began to grow 
misty, indistinct, until only a skin, 
looking like a rug, was in its place. 
The skin was white, with a fringe of 
blood, and was still sentient, for it 
continued to tremble and diminish 
until every particle of blood had dis- 
appeared, and then a faint white speck 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


99 

vanished like a dying shadow. While 
the animal suffered, Evlyn had also 
been seized with a horrible inexpress- 
ible torture. At the end there was a 
sharp pang and a soothing relief, during 
which she closed her eyes. When 
next she opened them she saw on the 
very spot where the poor dog had 
struggled out his existence a tall green 
stem luxuriant with white annunciation 
lilies. Standing near was Monsieur 
le Maestro, in white raiment, his face 
luminous with love and pity. He 
uttered no word, but with a divine 
smile broke the stem of lilies and 
offered them to Evlyn. She held out 
her hand in ecstasy to grasp them, 
when she suddenly awoke to see again 
the morning star shining bright in her 
face. 

Never in her life had she had 
such strange, inexpressible emotions. 


ICO 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


What does it all mean ? '' was the 
first clear thought that came to her. 
As she asked herself this question the 
answer came as if in a divine revela- 
tion. 

It seemed the star that spoke to her 
and said : Are there not as many 

kinds of men as there are species of 
animals ? Was not this greyhound of 
a high order, affectionate, faithful, use- 
ful, intelligent, but only a dog, not 
having within him a divine conscious- 
ness? Is not man but a slave, like 
that poor animal, until he has over- 
come the flesh? Did not your loved 
one, awakened from his slothfulness, turn 
to find that his friends could only give 
him sympathy, and that he must work 
out his own salvation ? Did not he 
daily struggle and suffer to overcome 
self until death was swallowed up in 
victory ? The man disappeared and 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


lOI 


a glorified body has taken his place. 
Your loved one sowed lilies, and his 
harvest is lilies. He would have given 
you of his best, but no ! you were 
awakened ; each must plant for him- 
self his own lilies. Put into the soil 
the right kind of seed ; nourished by 
the tears of your sorrow-clouds and 
the sunshine of love, your Father 
will bring them to the perfection of 
beauty.” 

“ Oh ! I see it all so clearly now ! ” 
said Evlyn. I was sent to Monsieur 
le Maestro that he might learn to know 
himself. He was taken from me, that 
I may understand myself. O morn- 
ing star, I invoke thee in gratitude ! 
Art thou his radiant soul speaking to 
me ? Thou art indeed the herald 
announcing a new day, O wondrous 
light ! ” 

From that moment the old Evlyn 


102 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


began to die, and a transformation 
began. Every one wondered at the 
sudden change. She became cheerful, 
even happy, and her physical strength 
began to return. One evening, when 
much better, she went out to dine, 
through the invitation of some Ameri- 
can friends. Later in the evening it was 
suggested that they see some of the 
sights of Paris. The names of several 
places were mentioned, with the char- 
acter of which Evlyn was familiar, 
yet she had not visited them. Her 
womanly instincts had ever kept her 
from doing anything abroad that she 
would have blushed to do at home. 
Should she refuse to go with the party 
some one would be deprived of a pleas- 
ure on her account, for they would not 
permit her to return home alone. One 
said, ^Hf all do not go none will go.'' It 
was decided to go, and to the Casino de 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


103 

Paris, a name never mentioned in polite 
French society. Evlyn had lost much 
of her old interest in refined worldliness, 
and now to go to a place of this descrip- 
tion was indeed a trial. She offered no 
objections, however, quietly following 
the others. 

‘‘You will have a rare treat. Miss 
Dole,” said her escort, “ in seeing this 
wonderful dancer, Stella, well translated 
‘ The Star.' I have seen her. All 
Paris is talking about her.” 

“Yes?” was Evlyn's only reply, as 
she entered the door, her cheeks burn- 
ing, for she felt herself degraded at the 
very threshold. The hour was late, 
the first part of the programme finished, 
and the gayety at its height. Evlyn's 
party went into the gallery and sat 
down at one of the small tables, order- 
ing beer, after the custom of the place. 
The foaming drink stood before her un- 


104 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


touched. She was sickened by the 
sights around her. It was indeed a 
glimpse into another world. She had 
lived in such a pure atmosphere, par- 
ticularly during the last few months, that 
the present scene was disagreeable in 
the extreme. It offered a vaudeville 
performance of startling attractions. In 
truth it was no more than a rendezvous 
for the demi-monde, fast, dissipated 
men, and curious foreigners wishing to 
see life. It is sad to have to say that 
there were there a score of Americans, 
old and young, some of them members 
of good families. 

As the band began to play, the floor 
was cleared in circles, the men forming 
in rings around the dancers, all women. 
Their disgusting movements and dis- 
play of limbs shocked and repelled 
Evlyn, but the men greeted the dancers 
with shouts of applause. The greatest 


WOMEN WHO LA UGH . 


105 

surprise to Evlyn was the large propor- 
tion of elderly men, some of them even 
with white heads and forms tottering 
with age. 

Oh, horrors ! she exclaimed to her- 
self, how can the branches be strong 
and bring forth good fruit, when the 
roots are so weak and rotten ! ” 

Soon there was an interlude of some 
moments, during which both men and 
women took occasion to drink heavily. 
Presently there was a sudden lull of 
voices. All eyes were turned towards 
the main entrance. Then a low 
whispering began that gradually grew 
to a murmur, and louder and louder 
still it rose, until the whole house burst 
into an excited cry of Stella ! Stella ! 
The crowd gave way, forming two 
phalanxes. The baton was raised, and 
the band struck up a lively air, just as 
Stella,** on the arm of a handsome 


io6 WOMEN WHO LAUGH 

gray-haired man, marched to the 
middle of the hall, there standing still, 
waiting for a special signal to begin. 

As Evlyn looked down upon them she 
started and gave a sharp, smothered cry. 

What is it ? How white you are, ^ 
Miss Dole ! Here — some water ! said 
her escort. 

All this passed before Evlyn could 
sufficiently regain her self-possession to 
speak. Don’t worry, it ’s over now, it 
was only the thick cigar smoke that 
stifled me — look ! she is going to dance. 
Yes,” she added to herself, '‘there is 
no mistake. ' Stella ’ is Mademoiselle 
Plangon, and her escort is ' The 
General’ ! I remember now seeing her 
picture in the Rue de Rivoli the other 
day, with a lot of other famous dancers, 
but I did not look closely, yet at the 
time I thought there was something 
familiar in the face. And ' The 


IVOMJSAT WHO LAUGH. 


107 

Generar ! How strange ! What can be 
their relationship ? ” 

Here Evlyn’s attention was wholly 
called to Mademoiselle Plangon, The 
General ” having stepped back to the 
front of the ring. Gracefully raising 
one hand over her head, with a pair 
of castanets tied with long loops of 
white ribbon, the other catching up her 
clinging robe of white crepon, display- 
ing her dainty petticoats of white lace 
and shapely feet in white kid boots. 
Mademoiselle Plangon made indeed a 
beautiful picture. The expression of her 
face interested Evlyn most as she stood 
posing, her eyes looking into nothing- 
ness above the heads of the breathless 
crowd. What commingling of emotions 
was there ! No painter could paint it, 
no words describe it. One would have 
to be in the depths of despair, and yet 
compelled to laugh, to comprehend it. 


io8 WOMEN WHO LAUGH 

Uttering a quick, Oh6 ! Oh^ ! to 
arouse her enthusiasm, followed by 
a little ringing metallic laugh, which 
left a stereotyped smile on her face. 
Mademoiselle Plangon began moving 
her symmetrical limbs with a bewilder- 
ing grace. From time to time she was 
greeted with wild bravos '' from the 
motley crowd, and when at last she 
finished and was led away by “ The 
General the house became a boisterous 
pandemonium. 

‘‘ May I not go? '’pleaded Evlyn. 
cannot breathe, for the smoke and the 
noise are torturing." 

As she went out she passed one of 
the private boxes, where sat Mademoi- 
selle Plangon and ‘‘ The General," over 
their glasses of beer. Evlyn trembled 
for fear they would see her, and 
stepped behind one of her friends. 

When once more in the street she 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


109 

uttered a heartfelt sigh of relief. On 
the way home she was absent-minded, 
and pleaded a headache as an apology 
for her silence. 

Evlyn slept but little that night, be- 
ing oppressed with the strange scenes 
through which she had passed. She 
said to herself, The General ' was try- 
ing me the first day I met him on the 
steamer. That same strange expres- 
sion he had then I saw again in his 
eyes as he looked at Mademoiselle 
Plangon over their beer. From that 
moment, through his suavity, fascina- 
tions, intellect, good looks, back of all 
I have mistrusted him. I made him 
respect me, admire me, and had I en- 
couraged him he would have made 
love to me. Why did he speak so 
against Mademoiselle Plan^on, and so 
abruptly leave me? How a man of his 
high position dares to appear in a 


no 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


public dancing-hall in such a conspic- 
uous manner I do not understand ! 
Oh ! I do not want to understand, for 
such knowledge can bring no happi- 
ness. What a contrast to Monsieur le 
Maestro. This sudden reversion is like 
being hurled from Heaven to Hades in 
a breath. Poor Mademoiselle Plangon, 
I pity her ! I wish I could see her 
again and talk with her, for though I 
know she is not doing right, I am sure 
there is hope for her. Pure environ- 
ments and sympathy can rekindle the 
divine spark not quite extinct.'' 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


Ill 


CHAPTER VII. 

Only a week after making it, Evlyn 
had her wish gratified. She had had 
the famous dancer in her mind con- 
tinually, and had thought of and de- 
vised many plans and schemes by 
means of which she might see her. 
She had about decided on one, when 
the morning’s mail brought a note from 
the unfortunate woman, in which she 
told of her illness and begged Evlyn to 
come and see her. 

Evlyn lost no time in going. She 
found Mademoiselle Plangon in an ob- 
scure part of the city, in a back room 
four flights up. To her rap there was 
a weak “ Entrez'' 


II2 


IVOMEAT WHO LAUGH 


“ You are the only one to whom 
I would send in the hour of need/’ she 
said, holding Evlyn’s hand and looking 
up at her affectionately. 

“ How different the expression,” 
thought Evlyn, “ from the one of the 
other evening! Is it possible this is 
the same woman ? But where are your 
friends? ” Evlyn ventured to question. 
“ I am sure you have many.” 

“ Ah, yes, when there is strength in 
my body, and merriment in my laugh, 
there are throngs who seek me ; but 
when sickness and want come, I turn 
to find myself alone ! Oh, my good 
friend, I sent for you because I wanted 
to talk with you, to hear the only voice 
that has given me an encouraging 
word, and to hold the only hand that 
has offered to uplift me ; and then, too, 
I want to beg you to release me from 
my promise. I cannot keep it longer. 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


113 

I cannot live to endure such a life. 
Give me the liberty, I pray you, to end 
my misery ! No matter what the next 
world may bring, it cannot be worse 
than this.'* 

“ Mademoiselle Plangon, listen. You 
remember the last time I saw you I 
had expected to talk with you the next 
morning, but you disappeared. I 
thought it strange, yet I did not blame 
you. I knew you had your reasons. I 
was sorry you had shut me out of your 
life, for I believed in you. I believe in 
you now. The fact that you have kept 
your word with me is evidence that my 
confidence is not misplaced.'* 

Oh, Miss Dole ! do not say you 
believe in me ; you do not know. It 
was because I did not want you to 
know that I left you, and I knew I was 
not worthy of your friendship, and that 

I might in some way compromise you." 
8 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


I14 

What do you mean ? Let us, my 
friend, fully understand each other. 
You began your story, finish it, for I 
am deeply interested.'’ 

I will tell you everything, then if 

you despise me ” 

‘‘ Go on, you need not fear that. It 
is not so much what has been your 
past, nor what is your present, but 
what your future will be, that is of 
greatest importance to me.” 

Mademoiselle Plangon’s eyes filled 
with tears. She looked at Evlyn a 
moment in silent admiration, and then 
began again. 

I told you I do not know my 
parents or anything of my birth. My 
first consciousness is of Christmas 
carols in an orphanage in England. I 
have always loved music, and this first 
memory is the purest and sweetest one 
of my life. Sometimes snatches of 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


”5 

those little melodies come to me now, 
like echoes from some distant happy 
land. We were as happy as children 
can be, I suppose, without a mother’s 
love. The absence of that always 
makes a void. While I was yet young 
I was sent to Paris to a convent, why 
I do not know. That is the reason I 
speak both languages equally well. At 
the convent I received a good educa- 
tion, and was well treated, but at a 
certain age it was necessary for me to 
go into the world for myself. That I 
was willing to do, and was even happy 
in the thought of making a place for 
myself, of broadening my life. During 
these days of youth I was often 
troubled about my identity, and won- 
dered where I came from. One day I 
questioned the Mother Superior of the 
convent, and she looked at me with 
pity and said she had only been told 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


ii6 

that my parents were poor and had 
died in my infancy, adding that she 
had endeavored to trace my parentage, 
but with little success. I was a great 
favorite at the convent, took the lead 
in my studies, and it was with some 
feeling of regret that I left. 

My first position was that of gov- 
erness in a private family. I did not 
keep it long, after being asked my par- 
entage, which I could not give. The 
mother raised her shoulders significantly 
as if to say, ‘ Bad blood.' She did not 
want her children reared under such 
influence. For want of better oppor- 
tunity I next accepted a maid’s posi- 
tion to the daughter of rich parents. 
She was about my own age. I was 
often mistaken in travelling for the 
daughter and the daughter for the 
maid. The result was jealousy, and I 
was again sent away, humiliated. I 


WOMEJV WHO LAUGH. 


117 

began to grow rebellious. I had already 
mingled with the world sufficiently to 
recognize my ability, even my superi- 
ority. Why, then, it occurred to me, 
was I deprived of the position that 
was mine by might of right? Was it 
through any fault of mine? No! I 
conducted myself as a lady. The more 
I thought of the injustice, the more 
bitter I became. And so for years I 
was jostled about here and there, but 
go where I would the hideous skeleton 
of disgrace would follow me, and at 
the very moment success and happiness 
would place their laurels upon my brow 
its cold bony fingers would snatch them 
away. I became cynical, and slowly a 
desperate indifference crept over me. 

‘‘ By all I was asked where were my 
credentials. And so the little speck of 
cloud that hovered over me when I 
came out of the convent kept growing. 


1 1 8 WOMEN WHO LA UGH, 

Suspicions, often springing from 
jealousy or malice in some, would be 
taken up and repeated as realities by 
others, until at last the whole expanse 
of my life was a canopy of dark clouds, 
and I thought that there was no use, 
and turned to revenge my wrong." 

Poor woman," said Evlyn, from 
my heart I pity you ! But you speak 
of revenge ; that word contains so 
much. What did you do in order to 
accomplish that. Mademoiselle Plangon? 
Tell me, for, as I have told you before, 
I am your friend." 

Well, being born ambitious, what- 
ever I did I wanted to do well. I 
knew my talent for dancing, so I began 
to practice daily, hourly, until I stepped 
before the world a star in that line, and 
they named me Stella. You can see 
my name everywhere in flaring letters. 
I went to one of the questionable places 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 119 

of this great city, where I am received 
nightly with much applause. There, 
for the first time in my life, I felt the 
exhilaration of recognition, even though 
of the lower quality. I was put upon 
a pedestal and looked up to by a certain 
class. Ah ! that is what the human 
heart craves! I have seen the rich 
hastily pay off their pauper debts with 
a few francs, when if they had only 
stopped and given the unfortunate one 
hour of their time, their sympathy, 
their recognition, their money would 
have been of tenfold worth. Then it 
was I took advantage of my situation, 
and used my power for destruction. 
All that was evil in me was aroused. I 
wore a smile, the most subtle weapon 
to success in life. Tears may some- 
times move, but it is the smile that 
charms. I chatted, laughed, drank 
with men and women, and when I had 


120 


WOMEN WHO LA UGH 


inflamed the evil in them started them 
to the precipice. I guarded carefully 
my every footstep, using every power 
to distract them from the danger ahead 
until, through my influence, their feet 
would slip, and over into the depths 
they would go ! I am not surprised 
that you shudder. Miss Dole. You are 
too pure to even listen to my story, 
but you asked it of me.'’ 

Yes, and I wish to hear it to the 
end. What is it that has broken you 
down both in health and purpose ? ” 

“ For a long time I have lived upon 
my nerves, but they have at last col- 
lapsed, and prostration is the result. 
Through it all, my good friend, there 
has been a strange undercurrent in my 
life. Once I had noble ambitions and 
aspirations like you. I think those 
elements, through natural combustion, 
started within my soul a tiny flame 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


I2I 


that I have never been able to quench. 
Since I have known you it seems to 
burn higher, and I have no rest. You 
have shown me there is some good in 
the world. The high will not receive 
me, however, and I refuse to go with 
the low ; therefore there is no place for 
such as I. You may not believe it, 
Miss Dole, but if there is a God, as you 
say there is, then He is my witness 
that I am a pure woman ! I have ac- 
cepted the degradation of the insults 
of men, my position demanded it, but 
at the same time I wrapped myself in a 
mail of steel, making myself strong for 
the battle of vengeance. Had I fallen 
too, we would have had to cast lots for 
the victory ; so far it is mine, but I am 
weary of the struggle. I have not 
found revenge to be sweet. Oh ! no ! 
Oh ! no ! 

How happy you make me, Ma- 


122 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH, 


demoiselle Plan^on. I have always 
felt, through that indescribable some- 
thing transmitting itself from soul to 
soul, that there was nobility in yours. 
When you speak of the flame of light 
in you, you have realized the very 
foundation of truth, the only everlast- 
ing. You have only to feed this flame, 
and it will yet purify and illumine your 
whole being. Well can I understand 
your unrest, for ‘ vengeance is mine, 
saith the Lord.’ Do you ever read the 
Bible, Mademoiselle Plangon?” 

Not now. I learned of it when 
younger, but I have been through so 
much that I have almost lost faith in 
its teachings and forgotten its words.” 

^^But you have read a great many 
books in your life, and of good quality. 
I remember several times, when you 
were my next-door neighbor^ having 
discussed theni with you/^ 


WOMEJV WHO LAUGH. 


123 


Oh, yes, I am fond of history, and 
good literature in general ; but ah ! my 
line of life has not been conducive to 
elevated thoughts. I remember only 
the other day, since confined here with 
this illness, having picked up an old his- 
tory, hoping to distract my tormenting 
thoughts, and opened it at the life of 
Socrates. Some of his spirit must have 
descended into you, for when you spoke 
a moment ago of that ‘ indescribable 
something transmitting itself from soul 
to soul,' I thought of the great phil- 
osopher, for he relied much on divine 
intuitions." 

Ah ! Mademoiselle, I do not flatter 
myself that even the shadow of his wis- 
dom and goodness has lengthened it- 
self down the ages to me ; but I do 
believe, like him, that one intimation, 
through a dream I have had, was the 
turning-point of my life. I am not a 


124 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


victim of superstitions, to the distorted 
and indistinct ideas resulting from hav- 
ing eaten a piece of ham for supper, 
no, but such as ‘ the thoughts that come 
in the dark which never come in the 
shine.’ The eyes, closed to the world, 
turned inward, have distinct visions 
sometimes of things within like the 
impressions of the camera. The image 
is received in darkness, with the eyes 
closed, and afterwards is brought out to 
the light of day for finished develop- 
ment. Then it becomes an illustra- 
tion, a picture of the real.” 

Yes, I grant you the beauty of your 
theory, but my ignorance intimidates 
me whenever I endeavor to reach up to 
such distances.” 

Then you too have a share of the 
genius of Socrates, for he realized that 
his superiority to others lay, not in his 
wisdom, but in his being fully conscious 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 125 

of his ignorance. There are many to- 
day who go wandering about among 
the stars, and end by getting hopelessly 
lost, or swim out to sea, beyond their 
depth before they know it, especially 
in regard to religious matters. They 
put a God on a cloud of fire in the far- 
distant heavens, and when they go to 
call upon Him they reason, ‘ What use, 
my voice would be lost in echoes,’ and 
so, discouraged, they go on in dark- 
ness. Y ou have realized. Mademoiselle, 
that you have within you the divine 
spark, a ray reaching out from the great 
sun, the God Centre, making Him ever 
present with you. Nourish that spark 
daily by doing your duty, no matter 
how distasteful, how tedious, and I 
promise you all will yet be well. You 
know the wise have decided that to 
do right is the only road to happiness. 
The kingdom of heaven is likened to a 


1 2 6 WOMEI^ IVIIO LAUGH. 

little child, and I think the more simple- 
hearted, the more God-like the wisdom ; 
it comes naturally, like the perfume to 
the flower. You know well the story 
of Jeanne d’Arc. A simple peasant, 
her education consisting alone in know- 
ing how to spin and to tend sheep, but 
possessing that faith which removes 
mountains, she led to victory where 
veteran generals had failed. If, as 
Shakespeare says, ^ we are such stuff as 
dreams are made of,’ then we are well 
made indeed, when of such ‘ stuff * 
as Jeanne d’ Arc’s dreams — transitory, 
transforming into the white dove, that 
was seen, by one, to fly from her mouth 
as she breathed her last sigh at the 
stake. 

Yes, the short career of Jeanne 
d’Arc was indeed pathetic and won- 
derful. I have sometimes thought we 
all possess in a measure the power of 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


127 

insight. Take the every-day casual oc- 
currences. Have you not often thought 
of some one for the first time in days, 
or months, and suddenly that one 
would appear, or be brought partic- 
ularly to your mind by some special 
event, in connection with yourself ? 
Again, I often receive letters without 
the least familiar sign on the envelopes 
to indicate their senders, or contents, and 
yet, immediately my eyes rest upon 
them, I feel their contents, if good, 
bad, or indiflferent, seldom failing in 
the correctness of the sensation.’' 

Ah, Mademoiselle Plangon, it is 
terrible to think of a mind like yours, 
so capable, being dissipated in a sphere 
so inferior to it. It must not be, it 
shall not be ! No, I will never release 
you from your promise. Only be pa- 
tient, and I believe you will yet thank 
me for having held you to it. Why 


128 WOMEN WHO LAUGH 

did you fall down before the cross that 
night, on your way to the river ? ” 

It was strange, Miss Dole. Some- 
how your face came suddenly to me, 
so vividly I was almost sure I saw you. 
I stopped to make certain, and instead, 
on looking up, saw the white arms of 
the cross over the convent gate, stretch- 
ing out, saying so peacefully, yet so 
distinctly, ‘ Rest here,* and I fell down 
before it, not from fear, for I was be- 
yond that. For a moment I said, 
‘ There is an Everlasting ! Oh, had He 
not fixed his canon *gainst self-slaugh- 
ter ! ’ But only a moment was I per- 
suaded, remembering the past, and 
arose, to hear you calling me. Then I 
was convinced my brain was going, and 
rushed on towards death and rest.’* 

‘‘ Pardon me, have you any money? ** 
Some, but not sufficient to hold 
out should I have a long illness, and 


tVOMEN tVHO LAt/Gir. 


129 

somehow I feel I won’t be strong 
soon.” 

“ I have but one request to make of 
you — don't worry, it will only make you 
worse. You need absolute rest of both 
mind and body, so leave everything to 
me. I will send you some books to 
read, and come and see you often.” 

Mademoiselle Plangon's chin began 
to quiver ; she could not speak. 

Evlyn leaned over and kissed her 
good-bye, promising to come again the 
next day. 

9 


130 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


CHAPTER VIII. 

Since the death of Monsieur le 
Maestro it was Evlyn's habit to occa- 
sionally go to V to put fresh flowers 

on his altar. She loved the spot dearly, 
for there she had experienced the only 
hour of unalloyed happiness she had 
ever known. It always gave her re- 
newed strength to go there and quietly 
live it over again, in thought. She did 
not come away weeping, disconsolate ; 
no, he had taught her how to over- 
come, and not submit. 

It was on one of these occasional 
visits that a sudden storm came up as 
she was hurrying back to the station. 
Just as she had reached the hunting- 


WOMEN- WHO LAUGH. 


131 

lodge great drops of rain began to fall, 
and the wind to blow furiously. She 
had no umbrella. She hesitated, not 
knowing whether to run back to the 
cemetery or towards the village. The 
lodge was closed, and she supposed the 
man had deserted it, for she had not 
seen him there for some weeks. As 
she stood looking up and down, debat- 
ing, the door of the lodge opened and 
the man, with his pipe, appeared. 

Won’t you come in out of the 
storm ? ” he asked, most courteously, 
and in such flat American English that 
Evlyn was for a moment confused, 
being accustomed to hearing only 
French from strangers. A livid shaft 
of lightning, splitting a great oak in 
twain not more than two hundred feet 
from her, decided the question, and she 
ran nervously into the lodge. 

‘‘ It is like a Texas norther,” he said 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


132 

pleasantly. “ Came sudden and soon, 
but I think it will pass over in a short 
while. Just make yourself comfort- 
able. Take this stool.'' 

Evlyn thanked him and sat down, at 
which he took another stool, and, plac- 
ing it near the doorway, sat looking 
out into the storm, having put up his 
pipe in deference to his visitor. After 
his first cordial words he relapsed into 
silence, leaving Evlyn to entertain her- 
self by looking around the rude hut, 
hung with strings of peppers and dried 
onions. Much to her surprise, she saw 
several copies of the New York dailies 
lying on his hard bunk. 

Evlyn regarded him closely. Have 
I not seen that face before ? It is a 
strong one. Perhaps I only passed it in 
the throng in New York, but it left its 
impression. How did he know I spoke 
English ? " She felt so uncomfortable. 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH, 


133 

and at the same time so curious, that 
she ventured to question him. 

I see you have the New York 
papers,” she timidly broke in. It is 
rather like an unexpected meeting with 
old friends to me.” 

“ They are very agreeable compan- 
ions for a lone man,” he replied, with- 
out any reference to her relationships. 

Evlyn became annoyed at this reti- 
cence, boldly asking, How did you 
know I spoke English ? ” 

A faint smile stole over his face, and 
with deliberation he replied, ‘‘ I can 
always tell an American, especially a 
woman.” 

The distinction is very slight some- 
times. You must have been intimately 
associated with them to so cleverly dis- 
cern.” 

‘‘ Oh, yes,” he again replied, without 
further committing himself. 


134 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH, 


Do you live in America ? was 
Evlyn’s last effort to draw him out. 

‘‘Well, according to an old saying, 
my home is where my hat is.’* 

Though he always spoke in a friendly 
tone yet Evlyn felt thwarted. 

She made no further effort to be 
communicative, and a long silence fol- 
lowed, interrupted only by the gusts of 
wind and falling rain. 

The next time she spoke she ad- 
dressed herself, saying, in a sort of un- 
dertone, “ I believe it has stopped rain- 
ing, I must be going, for poor Made- 
moiselle Plangon and the doctor will 
think I am not coming.” 

She rose to go. At the same time 
the man rose, placing himself in the 
doorway like a barrier. 

“ Who did you say ? ” he said, with 
quiet emphasis. 

Evlyn supposed it was absent-minded 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


135 

curiosity that made him ask the ques- 
tion, just as she had often asked a per- 
son to repeat, from mere habit. She 
was inclined to reply with an evasive 
answer, but, remembering her indebted- 
ness for his shelter, repeated, ‘‘ Made- 
moiselle Plangon, a friend of mine who 
is ill, and the doctor. I must be there 
at a certain hour.'’ 

Sit down, please," he said, with calm 
earnestness, almost commandingly. 

Evlyn became nervous, confused, 
and felt as if she would run away, but 
the man stood immovable in the door- 
way, waiting for her to obey. 

Seeing his advantage, she decided 
discretion to be the better part of valor, 
and reseated herself. Then he also sat 
down, and began questioning. 

This Mademoiselle Plangon, is she 
not very fair, wonderfully beautiful ? " 
‘‘ Quite so ! " 


136 WOMEN WHO LAUGH, 

And is she not very unhappy ? 

“ Very ! 

‘‘ How long have you known her?** 

‘‘ Only a few months.’* 

‘‘ You lived in the same pension with 
her in Paris, did you not ? ” 

I did.” 

Tell me all that you know of her.” 

That I cannot do. I am her 
friend.” 

Then if you are her friend you will 
speak.” 

I am not sure of that. It is for her 
to tell her private affairs.” 

Listen a moment. I am not as 
cold and indifferent as I seem, but my 
profession demands that exterior. Do 
you see this ? ” 

Turning back his coat the man dis- 
played underneath, pinned to his vest, 
a United States private detective badge, 
saying, You see it is in good faith that 


WOMEN' WHO LAUGH. 


137 

I am interested in Mademoiselle Plan- 
gon, and I now realize that you can 
be of invaluable assistance to me in 
bringing good fortune to that poor 
woman/' 

In that case I am at your service." 

‘‘ Then arrange a meeting where I 
can speak with her in your presence." 

‘‘Very well, the sooner the better; 
this very afternoon if you will. I am 
going to her now." 

“ It is settled. I will follow you on 
the next train. It would not be well 
for us to go together, for I am not 
dressed becomingly and would attract 
attention," he added, with a broad 
smile. 

Giving him Mademoiselle Plangon’s 
address, Evlyn hastened away, full of 
wonder and excitement. 

She found the doctor waiting for her 
at the sick wornan’^ home. 


138 


WOMEJV WHO LAUGH 


'' She is much better/’ he said, ‘‘ and 
by obeying directions will soon be her 
natural self.” 

As soon as he had gone Evlyn began 
relating to Mademoiselle, as quietly as 
she could, her meeting with the strange 
man. 

I know of whom you speak,” she 
said, without the least excitement. 
‘‘ That man has been worrying me for 
some months. Twice I met and talked 
with him for a short time, and I have 
heard of his inquiries after me. But I 
have heard men talk so much, and have 
no confidence in their promises. He 
told me some Aladdin story of prom- 
ised riches and happiness ; only his 
way, I suppose, of trying to entrap me. 
Men have many ways and means, my 
sweet friend, schemes deep and subtle 
to ensnare women, beyond all compre- 
hension of simplicity like yours,” 


WOMEN' WHO LAUGH. 


139 


But there are some good men/’ said 
Evlyn, thinking of the one she loved. 

I hope so,” was Mademoiselle’s 
only reply. But this man, I know 

why he was at V . I was teaching 

there, making but a pittance, when I 
came to Paris, and it was there I saw 
him. I suppose he has been hanging 
around thinking I would again appear, 
but when I leave a place there is no 
returning for me. I go to escape the 
shadows. I do not tell where I am 
going, and prefer to be forgotten.” 

‘‘ But somehow I believe in this man. 
I have that strange intuition about 
him that I seldom doubt, for it has 
never failed me. Listen to him ; it can 
do no harm. I am interested in what 
he has to say.” 

‘‘ Very well, then, to please you I will 
see him, but you will remain and hear 
all.” 


140 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


Certainly, and 

Their conversation was interrupted 
by a low rap. Evlyn opened the door 
and the strange man entered. He was 
dressed just as she had seen him at 

V , in coarse clothing and a large 

slouch hat. His ruddy complexion and 
thick, sandy beard gave him the appear- 
ance of a hardy German rather than a 
pale nervous American. 

I am very sorry to find you ill, 
Mademoiselle Plangon,'’ he said cour- 
teously. 

Thank you,’' she replied, her 
manner somewhat constrained. 

‘‘ But she is much better, and the 
doctor says she will be well soon,” 
added Evlyn, endeavoring to make 
things easy. 

You came to talk with me,” Made- 
moiselle, began. I am ready to hear 
you.” 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 141 

Ah, Mademoiselle, I am grateful for 
this moment, for your sake. I inti- 
mated to you at our former meeting that 
I was in possession of facts that would 
bring you good luck/' Then he re- 
counted accurately her life, beginning 
with the orphanage in England, up to 
her disappearance from V . 

I see you have made yourself ac- 
quainted with me, for every word you 
have spoken is true. But how came 
you to begin this research and to what 
does it lead ? " 

I shall leave the hidden chapters 
for one to unfold who has more right 
than I. Let me say that I have seen 
both your father and mother.” 

'‘Oh ! ” exclaimed Mademoiselle Plan- 
gon, springing up in bed and clasping 
her head with both hands. 

" Do not excite yourself, my friend, 
you will bring back the fever,” said 


142 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


Evlyn, taking her gently and laying her 
back upon the pillow. 

How foolish of me, it cannot be 
so ! the sick woman murmured. 

^^Yes, it is true, Mademoiselle, but 
there is sorrow to tell as well as joy. It 
is not all as you would have it. But you 
are not strong enough to endure either 
much pleasure or pain. From this 
time on I will be in Paris until my work 
is finished. Here is my address. 
When you, your friend, and the doctor 
find you are able to stand excitement, 
communicate with me and I will come 
with living evidence of your identity.'' 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


143 


CHAPTER IX. 

“ What an eventful life I have had 
in this great city ! ^The General ' is at 
least right in some things. I will never 
be the same ! Life has been opened 
to me in many new phases. Ah ! had 
I a daughter of my own, unless I was 
very sure of a rod of iron down her 
back, no matter how well chaperoned, 
she should never come to Paris to study. 
The sights that sicken me are exhila- 
ration to some. I have seen young 
women accustomed in their own parlors 
to abhor the things that here they not 
only tolerate but encourage under the 
appellation of alleged ^ broad-minded- 
ness.* Topics which in a more provin- 


144 


WOMEN WHO LAUGN. 


dal atmosphere would be whispered, 
even among women, behind a fan, are 
here open subjects of conversation/' 

As Evlyn soliloquized ‘‘ The Gen- 
eral's" card was handed to her. Her 
first thoughts were, I will not see him. 
What can be his mission here after his 
prolonged absence? No, on second 
thought I will see and study him. 
Show the gentleman up," she said to 
the maid. 

The General " met Evlyn pleas- 
antly, as if he had recently seen her, 
adding a zest of warmth to his hand- 
shake. He looked unusually hand- 
some. Evlyn had prepared herself to 
meet him coldly, but politely. It was 
no use. She found it wholly impossible 
to resist the charm of his manner. 

‘‘What strange influence is it this 
man has over me ? Only when I am 
with him do I feel it ; when he is gone 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


145 

it is soon dispelled. I have no confi- 
dence in him, and yet he charms me. 
There 's a subject for thought. Could 
it be that strange force, animal magnet- 
ism, in him ? and am I for the time in 
a measure hypnotized by it ? ” These 
thoughts in Evlyn formed a slow under- 
current to their rippling conversation. 

‘‘ Well, you are just the same,’' “ The 
General ” said, after a time. 

You mistake, sir, I think not.” 

‘‘ What is the difference? ” 

I am better prepared to be true 
to my mother’s religion, as you once 
asked me to be.” 

‘‘ What has prepared you ? ” 
Experience of many kinds. I have 
seen, heard, lived much of which you 
told me on the steamer, but association 
with such things has made them the 
more distasteful. Other associations have 

raised my ideal of truth and beauty.” 

10 


146 WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 

‘‘You speak so earnestly that you 
must have fallen in '' 

Evlyn anticipated his remarks and 
quickly diverted the conversation. 
“ How beautiful are the art galleries 
of the Louvre and the Luxembourg! 
Bouguereau must have had Mendels- 
sohn’s song without words, ‘ Consola- 
tion,’ in his mind when he painted his 
‘ Consolation.’ He seems, too, to have 
caught the expression of a Carlo Dolci, 
whose Madonnas are to me the loveliest 
in the world. The halo about the head 
of the Holy Mother is not unlike a 
Fra Angelico angel.” 

Here Evlyn stopped, giving “The 
General ” an opportunity to respond, 
but he remained silent. She always 
became somewhat nervous with men 
when they seemed to lose their speech, 
fearing a serious outburst when again 
they found it. 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


147 

“ I have also much enjoyed the old 
Cluny Museum/’ she began again, to 
ward off any volley of words he might 
be preparing to send. But The 
General ” made bold to interrupt, in 
truth not having heard half she said. 

No, to me you are not changed. 
My first impressions are only intensified. 
I am another man when with you. 
There are but few women in the World 
who could stand the test.” 

‘‘ Of what ? ” 

Seeing life ! ” 

^‘You do not seem to have much 
confidence in women.” 

No, I have not.” 

But I know many true, noble 
women, not in fiction but in reality.” 

Well, you are more fortunate than 
I. They have not come my way.” 

Then I would change my route ; 
that is every man’s privilege, you know.” 


148 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH, 


‘^The General’' only smiled, not know- 
ing just what to say. At last he added^ 
The credulity of innocence ; but I ad- 
mire it in you. Mademoiselle Plangon, 
for instance, you believe in her ? ” 

Here Evlyn’s voice assumed an in- 
jured tone. I remember. General, we 
quite disagreed on that subject before, 
so do not let us renew it. I still believe 
in Mademoiselle Plangon, and I hope 
soon to be able to prove to you her 
superiority and innocence. Until then 
I refuse to speak of her.” 

But do you ever see her ? ” The 
General ” spoke hurriedly, without 
thinking. 

‘‘ Frequently.” 

‘‘ Where ? ” 

The last time I saw you,” Evlyn 
said, looking him steadily in the eyes, 
she was living here, I believe.” 

“ Yes, but Here he became con- 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 149 

fused, impatient. Let us drop this 
subject. I did not come here to talk 
of Mademoiselle Plangon.’' 

And I did not suggest her ! 

No, it is one of much more impor- 
tance to me that I would speak — your- 
self. Miss Dole, I have travelled far 
and wide, seen all classes and condi- 
tions of men ; in short, I know the 
world and am tired of it. I have had 
all its sweets brought and put before 
me, I have tasted of each, but they no 
longer appease. For a long time I 
have wondered what the matter is, why 
my discontent, nothing satisfying, no 
pleasure enduring. I have at last 
found what my heart longed for, one 
to admire and love. There is but one 
thing wanting now, to be loved. I 
want a home, and in it a woman among 
women. She must be noble, accom- 
plished, sweet-tempered, and so pure 


150 WOMEN WHO LAUGH 

the snowdrift would appear dark in her 
presence/* 

Evlyn could not refrain longer from 
speaking. This is a rare jewel you 
describe. Have you any hopes of find- 
ing such a prodigy in this material 
sphere ? ’* 

Yes, I have already found her.** 
Then she is valuable indeed. 
What price do you put upon her ? ** 

All that I have ! ** 

And what is that ? ** 

‘‘All my wealth and all my love.** 

“ But you have had wealth all your 
life, and it has not satisfied. We should 
concede to others that which we claim 
for ourselves. Now, as for your love, 
how much have you left after all these 
years of dissipation that you have spoken 
of? Are you quite sure that it is not 
an imaginary value you have placed on 
your jewel? You are an honest man, 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


151 

you know, and such give value re- 
ceived.’' 

Miss Dole, you are ridiculing me, 
and my pride and dignity resent it. 
There seems to be an unpleasant 
friction in the atmosphere this even- 
ing. I hope you will be just, if not 
kind.” 

It is always my intention to be 
both. I was only going over your 
own proposition with you.” 

Then hear me. You are the only 
woman whom I have met in years in 
whom I have implicit confidence. I 
admired you from the moment we met, 
and each day I have known you has 
developed new charms. You are my 
ideal. Yes, Miss Evlyn, I love you, 
and want to make you my wife! ” 

He came near, attempting to put 
his arms about her. 

Do not touch me,” she said, firmly, 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


152 

while recoiling. “ It can never be, foi 
we are not of the same kind.” 

“ I do not understand you ! ” 

And I do not care to explain. 
Only this : I could meet you in society, 
laugh, be entertained by your wit and 
intellect, admire your good looks, but 
we would have to part there. In short, 
I do not love you, and never could.” 

His conceit was not prepared for this 
rebuff. Like most men, angered at 
the thought of being thwarted in their 
purposes, as much as disappointed in 
not obtaining the beloved, his remarks 
became bitter, vindictive, and he was 
ready to slay that which he could not 
woo. 

I had not expected this of you. I 
am mistaken. You are not the same 
as when we last met. Perhaps my 
sudden departure without explanation 
piqued you. But seeing you come in 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


153 

one night with that woman against 
whom I had warned you so annoyed 
me that I said, ^ I will never go back ! ' 
But I excused and forgave you, on the 
ground of innocence. I can do that no 
longer. You have seen enough of the 
world to understand. There must be 
much congeniality between you two, 
or you would not persist in cultivating 
her.’' 

‘‘ There is, and the compliment is in 
my favor. But, sir, I refuse to have 
words with you, for to myself I am 
still a lady. Let me end by saying I 
prefer the society of Mademoiselle 
Plangon to that of those who have 
higher position only because the depths 
of their intrigues are not known.” 

‘‘ I see ! That fiend has thwarted 
me in every way, and now she has be- 
trayed me ! Oh ! how I will grind her 
into the dust ! 


154 


WOMEN WHO LA UGH. 


Stop ! you have accused yourself. 
Mademoiselle Plangon has never men- 
tioned your name to me, though I gave 
her the opportunity. I knew that she 
knew you, for I saw you together. 
Afterwards I made some casual refer- 
ence to you, to see if I could draw her 
out, but she only closed her eyes and 
turned her face to the wall.'' 

‘‘ The General " made no reply, but 
taking his hat, walked to the door, 
turned, made a low bow, and went out. 

Gone ! how relieved I am," said 
Evlyn, but what is he going to do ? 
He is not done with all this. Will he 
endeavor to put me in the dust also ? 
If ‘ hell hath no fuiy like a woman 
scorned,' then earth hath no spleen like 
a thwarted man." 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


15s 


CHAPTER X. 

Ten days afterwards Mademoiselle 
Plangon was able to walk about her 
room. That evening she was to re- 
ceive again the strange man. 

‘‘ Come/' said Evlyn, ‘‘ I want you to 
look your prettiest ! " 

The two friends made a charming 
picture, in striking contrast, as Evlyn 
stood arranging Mademoiselle Plangon's 
hair, Evlyn with her black hair, great 
brown eyes, and slender figure in a 
simple black dress, standing in the 
background, bringing out Mademoiselle 
Plangon in bold relief with her golden 
locks and white gown. 

“ There ! you'll do now, I wish I had 
a camera ! " 


156 WOMEN WHO LAUGH 

What charming naivete is yours 
sometimes/’ said Mademoiselle Plan- 
gon, smiling. ‘‘I am happy just to 
know you are here, even if you didn’t 
speak. Your very presence brings me 
calm and rest.” 

‘‘Well, I do not feel very calm my- 
self just now. I am much more ner- 
vous than you. It seems that some- 
body is going to be married, or some- 
thing else to happen equally exciting. 
I always tremble worse than the bride 
at the ceremony.” 

“ Ah, my child, when you have been 
through as much as I have you will 
take most all things with indifference. 
My fate cries out and makes each 
pett}^ artery in this body as hardy as 
the Nemean lion’s nerves. Yet I will 
admit I feel a kind of premonition to- 
night of something strange to happen.” 

“ Well, we will hope that it is for the 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 


157 

best, come what may. Listen ! I 
heard carriage wheels entering the 
back court. Yes, there is the carriage, 
but only one man has alighted and he 
is coming this way.” 

A moment later and the hollow 
echoes of footsteps were winding up 
the long stairs. Evlyn’s heart-beats 
came rapidly as she opened the door 
and a strange man stood before her. 
He greeted her with a tone of familiar- 
ity. For an instant she was discon- 
certed, not knowing whether to invite 
him in or not, fears and conjectures 
rushing in quick succession through her 
brain. 

You do not recognize me,” he said, 
seeing her hesitation. 

The voice is familiar, but the light 
is dim here,” Evlyn half apologized. 
“ Walk in, please.” 

Thanking her, the man passed in. 


i^g WOMEN WHO LAUGN 

He was stout, ruddy, with clean-shaven 
face, and neatly dressed. 

The Dane ! '' Evlyn exclaimed when 
he was boldly in the light. 

Yes, old steamer acquaintances.'' 

But your eyes and your voice ! 
You are the " 

With the exception of my old 
clothes and beard, the strange man of 

the lodge at V . The end justifies 

the means." 

J'y perds mon latin ! " said Evlyn. 
‘‘ But I am here for a purpose, an im- 
portant one, or rather there is a gentle- 
man downstairs in the carriage who 
will make things plain. The letter is 
to you. Mademoiselle Plangon, and the 
postscript yours. Miss Dole. Are you 
ready to hear them ? " 

Each looked at the other without 
speaking. 

I mean. Mademoiselle Plan§on, are 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH, 


159 

you ready to receive the gentleman ? 
I will take care of Miss Dole/' 

^‘Yes, immediately. I want this 
comedy or tragedy, whichever it be, 
over." 

To Evlyn it seemed an hour from 
the time “ The Dane " went out until 
he returned. Mademoiselle Plangon 
gracefully reclined in an easy-chair, 
while Evlyn sat by, holding her hand. 
Both unconsciously held their breath 
as the two men entered. The Dane " 
came in last, closing the door behind 
him. For several minutes not one of 
the company moved, seeming to be par- 
alyzed with confusion and surprise, for 
“ The Dane’s ’’ companion was no other 
than The General." The latter’s 
strong figure began to reel. H e grasped 
at the table to steady himself, but in 
spite of his efforts fell a trembling heap 
at Mademoiselle Plangon’s feet. 


i6o WOMEN WHO LAUGH 

Stella ! ’’ he cried, but could go no 
further, writhing in agony. 

‘^What is it?” said Mademoiselle 
Plangon. I do not understand! ” 
Raising himself to a half-sitting pos- 
ture The General ” turned his eyes 
earnestly on Evlyn, then burst into 
tears, sobbing like a child. With great 
effort he calmed himself sufficiently to 
say slowly, addressing '' The Dane,” 
Tell her everything ; leave us alone ! ” 
Come with me, please,” said The 
Dane,” speaking to Evlyn, at which 
the two went into an adjoining room, 
leaving Mademoiselle Plan^on looking 
down on the once strong man, now 
crawling in the dust. 

‘‘ I have had many cases,” said The 
Dane ” to Evlyn when alone, ‘‘ but 
this is the saddest ! Not until I heard 
^ The General ’ call Mademoiselle 
Plangon Stella did I fully realize 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. i6i 

everything. The story is a dark one. 
Here are the facts as I have worked 
them out. I’ll cloak them as modestly 
as I can. 

‘‘ ‘ The General ’ is of high birth, and 
has always been wealthy. When quite 
a young man he began to lead a fast 
society life, which he has in a great 
measure kept up until now. His family 
in those days had a country seat in New 
England. Their only near neighbor 
was a most estimable, highly intellec- 
tual, and well-born farmer who, through 
force of circumstances, had been led to 
this quiet spot. His wife was dead, 
and he had but one child, a beautiful 
daughter, sixteen years old. During 
the quiet summer months ‘ The Gen- 
eral,’ seeking to amuse himself, became 
a constant visitor to their neighbor. It 
did not take him long, with his clever 
speech, knowledge of the world, and 


i 62 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH, 


good looks, to fascinate the young girl. 
At the end of the season her old father 
came, crushed with grief, and demanded 
that ‘ The General ' marry his daughter. 
At first he refused, but, threatened by 
legal proceedings, he complied, swear- 
ing never to live with her after. The 
ceremony, which was secret, being 
over, ‘ The General * offered the father 
money to take his daughter to some 
distant country. It was refused, but 
the old man sold his farm and went 
with her to England. 

“ For several years there were faint 
rumors floating about in regard to ‘ The 
General ' and the sudden disappearance 
of the girl, but his wealth and position 
soon overcame them, and they were 
lost in the dead past. He made no 
effort to see her again, but when once 
in England heard news of her. She 
had given birth to a child, had lost 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 163 

her reason, and was confined in an 
asylum. Soon after, crushed by grief, 
the old father died. During his last 
hours there was a priest who came to 
minister to him, and it was to him he 
confided the care of the child, telling 
him none of the details of its life. 
Several years afterwards this priest 
was sent to Paris, and remembering his 
promise, also having become attached 
to the child, he took it with him, plac- 
ing it in a convent here. Soon after- 
wards the priest died also, leaving the 
child in the care of the Mother Supe- 
rior.’' 

From that point I know of her life,” 
interrupted Evlyn, for I see that ‘The 
General ’ is none other than the father of 
Mademoiselle Plangon. How horrible ! ” 
“You are right. He told me in New 
York, when he engaged my services to 
trace her, that he did not even know 


1 64 WOMEN- WHO LAUGH 

the sex of the child, but that once or 
twice he had thought of hunting it up. 
The thought, however, of bringing 
upon himself a scandal and a family 
proved too great a burden to his pleas- 
ure-loving nature. So the years went 
by. 

Somehow lately the thought of it all 
began to torment him, and he realized 
that he could have no rest until he had 
found his child. You remember that 
he and I landed in England. There 
we traced the mother to the asylum. 
We went to see her. Poor woman, she 
was still sadly beautiful, sitting behind 
her prison bars. At first she took no 
notice of us, but after a while, on look- 
ing up, she caught ‘ The General’s ’ 
eye. For a long time she stared at 
him, and then slipped out of her chair 
and crouched in the corner like a 
hunted animal, shrinking from him. I 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 165 

am confident that, as far as her brain 
was capable of thinking, she recognized 
him. ‘ That is hopeless,' said ‘ The 
General,’ turning away, ^ let us look for 
the child.’ He left instructions with 
the keeper to communicate with him at 
her death, should it occur before his. 

So step by step, most carefully 
taken, I traced Mademoiselle Plangon 
to V . There the difficulties be- 

came insurmountable. I met her, tried 
to get her interested in her own story, 
but she would not listen. Then it was 

she left V for Paris, changing her 

name. Had she retained her usual 
name, I could with little trouble have 
traced her to the Casino de Paris. For 
many weeks I was in the dark. It 
was only the day before you came 
into my lodge that I learned she was 
known as Mademoiselle Plangon. I 
had been in Paris hard at work, and 


i66 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


had just returned to V , when you 

and I met, by mere chance, or rather I 
think that meeting was God-sent, and 
then I learned her whereabouts/' 

But why did you think I had lived 
in the house with her? I remember 
that you asked me the question/' 

When I had that little talk with 

her at V , she bitterly said, ‘ I 

would not listen with confidence to but 
one person I know, and that is an 
American girl who lives in the house 
with me.' I am accustomed to putting 
two and two together, you observe. 

She had then been away from V 

some weeks, and had returned on busi- 
ness. She cleverly escaped me before 
I could have a satisfactory talk. It is 
a dreadful affair, for I remember ‘ The 
General ' laughingly telling me of the 
wonderful dancer ‘ Stella ' that he had 
met, of how beautiful and intellectual 


WOMEiV WHO LAUGH. 

she was, and what difficulty he had in 
trying to manage her — that she seemed 
quite out other sphere. You can now 
understand why he was so overcome 
when he realized that she was his own 
child. I suppose the enormity of his 
sin for the first time stood boldly be- 
fore him.” 

Do you mean to tell me,” said 
Evlyn, that this man's wife is living ? ” 
No, she died some three weeks ago. 
‘ The General ’ went to England to 
see her well buried.” 

‘‘Well buried,” repeated Evlyn; 
“ you have spoken the truth. Did he 
expect to see me here ? ” 

“ Oh, no, I have not seen him until 
to-night since he left for England. I 
heard he was in a bad mood these last 
ten days and hard to find. It was a 
simple note I wrote making the engage- 
ment. I told him nothing except 


1 68 WOMEN WNO LAUGH, 

that I had found his daughter, had 
talked with her, and that she was 
ready to receive him. He had not ex- 
pected to find her in such a low atmos- 
phere, for I had told him that she 
taught for her living, and that none of 
the insinuations against her character 
could be proved other than that her 
father and mother were unknown. 

Ah ! and here is another clearing- 
up, for I asked him once whether he 
ever saw you, remembering the be- 
ginning of your acquaintance on the 
steamer, to which he replied, ^Yes, 
quite frequently ; I admire her much, 
but she has formed some associations 
here that I fear will not be good for her.’ 

And so you are the good angel 
who has made all things well. But I 
knew that that was your calling the 
moment I saw you sitting behind that 
b^nk of flowers the night before you 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 169 

sailed. I have made a study of 
faces, you know, and then I heard 
your conversation at table, which was 
a fine index. I suppose I appeared 
very stupid, but there is method in my 
manner. I see and hear everything 
around without appearing to do so. 
And so,’' he added, rising to go, my 
work, with your invaluable assistance, 
is finished. I thank you sincerely. 
To-morrow I will receive my reward ; 
yours is with you now, in a happy con- 
sciousness. I shall soon start for New 
York, there to begin again the un- 
covering of the hidden tracks of men. 
This is life ! ” 

The Dane ” had gone, and Evlyn 
was left to think alone. Her thoughts 
were full of The General’s ” perfidy 
and the poor wronged mother. I 
did not think the human heart capable 
of it ! ” she said to herself. Poor inno- 


170 WOMEI^ WHO LAUGH, 

cent girl, poor delicate flower, snatched 
from its virgin stem, thrown into the 
dust and cruelly trampled upon, just 
when life was blooming into its love- 
liest ! Full of bright dreams and pure 
sentiments, she spent her emerald 
May-days with him, wandering amid 
flowers, listening to the songs of birds, 
and her heart beating warm, keeping 
time to his words of love. All the 
heavens were roseate and her song the 
whole day long was, no doubt, ‘ How 
sweet it is to live and love ! ' With 
that torturing half-consciousness that 
comes ’twixt some horrible nightmare 
and waking, she had to linger out an 
existence behind iron bars ! And he — 
ah ! how different with men ! ^ Oh, 

yes,’ the world will say, ^ but sh — 
putting its finger to its lips with a sig- 
nificant gesture of feigned modesty. 
One might as well say to me, ‘ There 


WOMEJ\r WHO LAUGH, lyi 

is a carcass in that well, but drink the 
water and say nothing/ When I re- 
fuse they will add, ‘ Ah, well ! there is 
no other and you will famish/ Then 
will I turn to the flowers, and sip the 
dew, a slower way to quench one’s 
thirst, but there is no poison in it. I 
can see him now, when in some stilly 
moment the ghost of that poor injured 
woman would rise before him, an un- 
welcome guest. He would start to his 
feet impatiently, but she would not 
take the hint and go. Then he would 
try a cigar, endeavoring to soothe him- 
self into indifference, sending out his 
disagreeable thoughts in rings of smoke, 
but through all the spectre lingered, 
until, driven by unrest, he would seize 
his opera-hat and go out into the night 
to revel or dissipate, rudely leaving 
her there. Perhaps it was to make 
love to another credulous, innocent 


172 WOMBAT WHO LAUGH. 

girl, or trifle slyly with the wife of his 
best friend. Or if the occasion was 
more serious he would seek the excite- 
ment of politics or even of religion. 
Whatever it was he always rose to the 
occasion. And so I suppose he sud- 
denly turned and saw the sun past the 
meridian, sloping to the west, and be- 
came frightened at the thought that 
his life was coming to an end, and at- 
tempted a sort of death-bed repentance. 
Ah ! well, it is not for me to judge ; it 
lies between him and his God. I only 
hope he may bring some sunshine into 
the life over which he has so long cast 
a shadow, and that she, like the noble 
woman that she is, may quicken into 
life some remnant of his better nature. 
How like a woman ! How often she 
bestows her best affection upon indif- 
ference. In nine cases out of ten, 
if she has a worthless husband she 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


173 

■"ill cling the closer to him. Are men 
the same ? But what is the use of all 
my moralizing? I cannot reform so- 
ciety — society must reform itself.'* 


174 


WOMEJV WHO LAUGH 


CHAPTER XI. 

‘‘ In my old home in America, amid 
the fragrance of the blossoming honey- 
suckle, to fight out life’s battle ! Here 
is the fulfilment of my dream ! Two 
years have passed since that memorable 
night when ‘ The General ’ and his daugh- 
ter met. It seems many more. Here 
am I, paralyzed, an invalid for life, to be 
wheeled about in a roller-chair. Ah ! 
‘ man proposes, but God disposes.’ I 
was on the way, going to claim my 
castles in Spain, when lo ! the invin- 
cible enemy. Disease, stopped me and 
cried, ^ They are shattered ! ’ So there 
was nothing for me to do but return 
and be content with this humble cot- 
tage.” 


WOMEAT WHO LAUGH. 


175 

There was no spirit of complaint in 
Evlyn’s retrospection, only meek sub- 
mission. Long and continued strain 
on her nervous system had caused an 
affection of the spine. By rest and 
careful treatment she had begun to 
overcome it, when one day, as she ran 
down some steps, her foot slipped and 
she fell, striking the base of the spine, 
causing paralysis of the lower limbs. 
The upper part of her body remained 
vigorous and useful. Eminent physi- 
cians were consulted, but they all shook 
their heads and said, It is of no use, 
she can never v/alk again.’’ 

I would have had it so different,” 
she went on in her revery. I had 
dreamed of the time when I could 
make my family comfortable, make a 
place for myself, and even have the 
luxuries of life. None of this can now 
be. As it is, this quiet, prosy town 


1^6 WOMEN- WHO LAUGH. 

must afford all my joy. Somehow I 
felt, when going through so many 
changing scenes, that things here would 
seem somewhat different on my return ; 
but here is the same old grocer on the 
corner, the same old preacher expound- 
ing the gospel on Sundays in a vocifer- 
ous voice, the grass still growing in the 
middle of the streets — all moving on 
in the even tenor of their way. 

There are no changes, except that 
the town-hall has lost its fresh coat of 
paint, some new lives have come into 
the world, and some new-made graves 
have been added to the churchyard. 
Somehow, by comparison, things seem 
dwarfed, but perhaps that is only the 
eye growing old. I remember, when a 
child, those steps yonder looked so 
high, and I said, ^ How far it is to the 
bottom — what if I should fall!' Now 
they seem so small, and I could al- 


WOMEN- WHO LAUGH. 


177 

most cover them with a double yard- 
stick. 

And what of my friends here ? 
There is not one in the whole town 
who is thoroughly congenial with me. 
I am admired by some for what they 
call my intellect, and loved by others 
who give me credit for a good disposi- 
tion, and yet by all I am considered 
somewhat as a thing apart. Even my 
own family does not understand me. 
The old women knit me into their 
socks around the fireside, and the men 
whittle me in front of the store-doors, 
while my family tolerate my ambitions 
without really sympathizing with them. 
Had health and vigor been mine, then 
success also would have been added. 
Then all would have patted me on the 
shoulder and said, ‘ I knew a great future 
was to be yours, I am proud of you ! ’ 

This without having given me before 
12 


lyS WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 

even a word of encouragement. Now 
many of them are inclined to moralize 
on my high notions, accuse me of ex- 
travagance, eccentricity, and ‘ isms.' 
In short, they are disappointed, yet 
kind enough to pity me. 

In spite of all these difficulties I 
have a fixed purpose. I will not allow 
myself to be discouraged, nor let down 
to the commonplace, but, praying 
every day for supreme heroism, will 
endeavor to create around me a higher 
atmosphere. My efforts may not be 
appreciated at first, but I have the 
consolation and promise: ‘And whoso- 
ever shall give to drink, unto one of 
these little ones, a cup of cold water 
only, in the name of the disciple, verily 
I say unto you, he shall in no wise 
lose his reward.’ ” 

Just at this moment a letter was 
handed Evlyn. She opened it and read : 


WOMEN" WHO LA UGH, 


179 


“Druid Hill, California, 
''July \ 6 th, 18 — 

“ My Dearest Evlyn : 

“ You see from this heading that we 
are now established in our summer 
home. What an enchanting spot it is ! 
How restful ! It combines the beauties 
of many countries. 

“ Our house sits on a green elevation, 
surrounded by trees that form arbors 
of cool shade in spite of the ardent 
sun. Beyond, to the left, are the or- 
chard, the vineyard, and the orange 
grove. What an abundance of luscious 
fruit they yield ! To the right all is 
rustic beauty. There is a large grotto, 
with a peculiar reflection, reminding 
me of the Blue Grotto of Capri. It is 
lined with delicate ferns, and covered 
on the outside with luxuriant palms. 
From the tall rock above springs a 
stream that falls over its side, an ever- 


i8o WOMEN WHO LAUGH 

murmuring fountain. Just as the sun 
rises its silver spray catches the rays 
and reflects a rainbow. Then its trick- 
ling waters wander off into winding 
streams and crystal pools, whose bor- 
ders are strewn with fragrant wild 
flowers. ' 

Behind me are the majestic moun- 
tains, piercing the clouds like the Alps 
of Switzerland. Before is an arm of 
the grand old ocean, its waves nuzzling 
the shores, or beating themselves into 
angry foam. I can imagine myself in 
the bay of Naples, with all its wonder- 
ful coloring. In the evening a breeze 
comes up out of the ocean, and min- 
gles with one from over the mountains, 
catching up the sweet odor of the 
mellow fruits and fragrant wild flowers, 
filling one with a dreamy drunkenness. 

‘‘ Lastly, the full-orbed moon rises 
and casts over all a sublime and mys- 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. i8i 

terious expression. It is then my 
imagination can see a tall Druidess 
come out of the grotto, and offer up 
some fetichism to the towering trees, or 
the patches of moonlight, penetrating 
their thick branches, assume the forms 
of nymphs and fairies. 

Yes, surely this is a piece of God’s 
best handiwork, and yet it would all be 
as a barren plain to me did I not have 
with me my loved ones. After all 
there is nothing in life worth having 
save love, and nothing worth the giv- 
ing save love. It comprises everything. 
It is God himself ! 

Speaking of giving, I want to tell 
you that my dear little Evlyn, your 
namesake and god-child, has been 
christened. On that occasion I wanted 
her to make an offering to the God in 
whom you taught me to believe. And 
SO; from that day, half of her worldly 


i 82 women who laugh 

possessions she has given to you. 
That will at least give you and your 
family a comfortable living. I wish 
there was more to divide with you, but 
father, through some unfortunate turn, 
lost his last dollar in Wall Street. 
Now we are all entirely dependent on 
the efforts of my dear husband. He 
is a self-made man, you know, and not 
yet old enough to have accumulated 
vast wealth. But there are bright pros- 
pects ahead for him. His interests in 
the mines are increasing all the while. 
What a noble, unselfish man he is ! 
How I love him, for he knows my 
whole story, and took me for myself 
alone. I have almost forgotten the 
past clouds, so bright is the sunshine 
of my husband's affection. We loved 
each other the first time we met, and 
now that God has given us a little one 
we are indeed happy. 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 183 

How grateful I am to you for all 
this! Yes, dear Evlyn, it was you 
alone, in the great city of Paris, that 
stretched out a helping hand, and 
snatched me from the dark waters of 
death. How my heart bleeds for you 
in your affliction ! If I could only do 
something to alleviate it. But if your 
flesh is weak your spirit is strong, and 
you will bear your cross nobly, I know. 

Poor father is a wreck physically. 
He suffers intensely with nervous dys- 
pepsia, a most depressing and torment- 
ing malady. You would not recognize 
his once sturdy frame, now weakened 
and bowed. His hair is white, and his 
features badly wrinkled. At times he 
is very melancholy. I never refer to 
the past in his presence, but often 
when your name is mentioned his eyes 
fill with tears. Yesterday I saw him 
standing before a life-sized portrait 


184 WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 

he has had made of you. For a long 
time he stood gazing at it, and then burst 
into tears, weeping like a child. I bear 
him no malice, for he suffers enough at 
best. A torturing conscience is written 
in every line of his face. It is touch- 
ing to see how he clings to me, like a 
drowning man to a floating spar. He 
has lost all interest in gay life, so I 
suppose we will not go back to San 
Francisco until late in the season. We 
have many friends there, and our social 
demands are numerous, but I prefer 
this sweet, quiet place, with my own. 
I know society and its nothingness ; 
out here are nature and purity. If only 
you were with us, I would ask for no 
more. How I wish you did not live 
so far away. 

But I am coming to see you some 
day soon, and hope to bring you back 
with me for a visit. 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH. 185 

‘‘ Write to me often. I am always so 
anxious — and happy to hear from you. 
May the peace of God be always with 
you is the earnest prayer of your ever 
grateful and loving friend, 

Stella.” 

Wonderful fulfilment! ”said Evlyn, 
as she finished the letter : And have 
ye not read this Scripture, the stone 
which the builders rejected is become 
the head of the corner.” 

For an hour Evlyn sat in her invalid’s 
chair, lost in thought, the open letter 
lying in her listless hand. 

The cows, with their cling-clang bells, 
were slowly wending home. The 
mother birds were gathering the young 
under their wings, while the fire-flies 
flitted amid the deepening shadows. 
The evening breeze, sweet from the 
flowering honeysuckle, kissed Evlyn’s 


i86 


WOMEN WHO LAUGH 


brow, seeming to waft her murmuring 
echoes from the seolian harp in Mon- 
sieur le Maestro’s wife’s tomb. She 
began singing, to its accompaniment, in 
a low sweet voice : 


Sunset and evening star, 

And one clear call for me I 
And may there be no moaning of the bar 
When I put out to sea ; 

But such a tide as moving seems asleep, 

Too full for sound or foam. 

When that which drew from out the bound- 
less deep 

Turns again home. 

Twilight and evening bell. 

And after that the dark ! 

And may there be no sadness of farewell 
When I embark. 

For though from out our bourne of Time and 
Place 

The flood may bear me far, 

I hope to see my Pilot face to face 
When I have crossed the bar. 


THE END. 




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